


A Reasonable Witcher

by BawdyBean



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Blood and Wine (The Witcher 3 DLC), Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hearts of Stone (The Witcher 3 DLC), Light Bondage, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Sexual Confusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2019-11-15 10:26:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 61,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18071651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BawdyBean/pseuds/BawdyBean
Summary: Eskel was always so calm, endlessly steady. So damnreasonableabout everything. Just once Geralt wanted to see him falter a little bit.





	1. Novigrad

**Author's Note:**

> I have literally never written anything before and I wanted to start with a short chapter for the beginning of much longer story idea I have. If there is interest I will continue it.  
> Also since I have never posted anything I clearly have no beta so all mistakes I own.<\--- I came back a few days later to re-edit as a way of catching my errors so it should look a bit cleaner now. Now I will only claim overuse of commas.  
> Thanks for the kudos I will post another longer chapter soon :)

Geralt walked into the Passiflora scanning the main room of the first floor as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer lighting inside. He liked the Passiflora it was cleaner than the other whorehouses in town, had better food, and better wine. Even if the girls were a little less interesting than over at Kate's it was still a pleasant place to relax and a take a break. One where he was significantly less likely to step in a pile of vomit from some landsick mariner.

"Hey there handsome! Got an itch needs scratching?" 

 _Need a barmaid,_  he thought to himself. Instead he just smiled appreciatively at the scarcely dressed redhead who was calling at him and responded "Maybe later."

Eskel ought to be around here somewhere. They had planned to meet up for a night of drinking and carousing on the first if the month in Novigrad a few weeks back when they had happened by each other on the Path. To tell the truth Geralt was really looking forward to it. It hadn't been the smoothest month of his many years with several piss poor contracts and employers that had attitudes to match. He had been swindled out of the agreed upon gold for a field of nekker nests and ended up walking away with half what he was due just to avoid being chased out of town with pitchforks. He had a new itching scar healing up on his back over his left kidney because he  _might make_  katakans look easy in fight but in reality they definitely  _are not_ , especially when you have soused yourself to make your blood more appealing. Yup a night or two of drunken debauchery with his wolven friend, no contracts, no one to boss him around- sounded heavenly right now. 

He trudged up the stairs and made his way to the lady in charge intending to buy himself a bottle or three of Est Est. He spied Eskel sitting in a corner booth, wine in front of him, his relaxed face watching the courtesans dance in front of him. Geralt paid for his drinks. He made his way over to the booth and excused himself past one of the half naked men dancing suggestively to slide in next to Eskel. In front of Eskel undulating on the table top was a woman in a gauzy halter style top and some- well he guessed he would call them shorts but they barely longer than the underwear he was sure she wasn't wearing either.

"Hey there stranger." Geralt said, knocking his shoulder into Eskel's.

"Wolf. How have you been?" Eskel turned to him and gave him slow half smile that never really reached the scarred side of his face.

"I've been BETTER. But we are here, and we are going to enjoy ourselves for a bit so I won't bore you with the details Eskel."

"I would never be bored if you needed to get something off your chest Geralt," Eskel gave him a long serious sideways look "you know that, right? But if you don't need to talk and just want to blow off steam may I suggest watching the lovely Vivviene here dance. She is enchanting." He winked at the courtesan in the gauzy halter dancing on the table in front of him and leaned back in the booth stretching his legs out and crossing them under the table while drinking his wine and letting his gaze drift up Vivviene's form.

Geralt opened his Est Est and leaned back in the booth as well. Yup Eskel was right, she was pretty enchanting. They drank in comfortable silence, watching Vivviene spin and sway on the table. Every so often Eskel or Geralt flipped her an oren which she always slyly caught and tucked in her shorts. The place buzzed with rich townsfolk and merchants looking for someones company to keep for an hour or  two. The half naked young man dancing off to the the side of the table behind Vivviene continued to weave and rub himself suggestively in the periphery of their vision as well. A man walked up to him and began to whisper in his ear. Though he was talking in the lowest of whispers Geralt could hear him perfectly clear which he knew meant his friend could as well.

"How much if I wanted to keep you  _tied_   _up_  for the rest of the night? Hmm?" 

"60 orens an hour Sir." The young man whirled slowly around and leaned his naked back against the man who continued to speak in his ear. The courtesan continued to rhythmically thrust his hips into the air in front of him.

"Alright, but I intend to actually tie you to the bed and if I can make you cum untouched  _next_  time it will be 50 orens an hour. Deal?" The man was now slowly dragging his fingernails down the courtesan's chest. The young man's breathing was stuttering a bit as he responded with a whisper, "Deal."

Sometimes the enhancements were as much a curse as a blessing.

Geralt screwed his faced up into his best did-you-just-hear-what-I-heard? face and snuck a look over at Eskel. Who was still just sitting serenely in the booth leaned back watching Vivviene twirl and the two men who had started kissing roughly.

"Yes Wolf?" Eskel questioned.

"Um, guess I just don't get it? I mean I don't judge anyone for it, but I don't think I could ever get off from a guy going at me. What on earth is arousing about that?"

"Mmm. I don't know but you never know you might be surprised. I was at this terrible dive of whorehouse in Skellige once and there was a man who was all trussed up like a roast chicken." Eskel laughed, a low short rumble. Geralt meanwhile was staring at Eskel wide eyed jaw slightly ajar... "This huge beast of a man was ploughing him in front of the whole establishment. Now I am not saying public indecency is for everyone, but I am saying that man came harder and looked more pleased than half the whores in Novigrad and no money exchanged hands. No one touched his cock, so obviously he enjoyed it greatly and he must have really trusted the man who ploughed him, because tied up like he was he couldn’t have done anything to stop it if he wanted too."

Geralt gaped at Eskel. "What the hell? How in gods did you end up watching that?"

"What? I needed a place to sleep, inn was full whorehouse was not. It was a reasonable solution really. Paid a girl for the night so I could sleep in her room for the first half of the night then spend the rest of the night in the common room while she took the rest of the night off to nap. Happened to get a show for free." Eskel explained.

Geralt's mouth had closed. Okay so Eskel hadn't sought out to watch one man fuck another but still. What. The. Hell. Sometimes he just couldn't wrap his head around how Eskel was always so calm about everything. Need a room. No problem. Watch a man get tied up and take a cock. No problem. It was all a clearly  _reasonable_  situation.

"All I am saying is you never know what you might like until you try it Geralt. I mean I love women. They are warm and soft, but if the right fellow came along and were willing to trust me THAT much.” Eskel paused licking his lips and taking a drink of his wine, “That would be pretty heady. Knowing he would give me everything like that... that would probably be a huge turn on." Eskel's voice had gotten lower, softer. He watched as the man led the young courtesan off to a private room.

There was nothing reasonable about this conversation but Geralt was too drunk to care at this point, he was learning all kinds of new things about his friend. "Eskel I don't think I could ever trust anyone that much." Geralt shook his head incredulously.

"You'd trust me enough to cover your back in den of vampires."

"Gods, yea, but that's different!" exclaimed Geralt rolling his eyes, "Hopefully no one is trying to kill me in bed."

"I think that's what’s so attractive to some people about it Geralt, trusting someone more than with just keeping you alive, trusting them enough to see you vulnerable. That has to be amazing for the person doing the trusting as much as it is a turn on for the person being given the trust."

Geralt drained the last of his wine. "I am going to need another drink if you’re going to keep talking about bizarre sex Eskel."

"Oh, don't be such a prude Geralt!” Eskel huffed out another lough laugh, “There is nothing bizarre about it. Anything is reasonable as long as it between two agreeable adults." It was Eskel's turn to roll his eyes. He drained the last of his wine as well. "Now come on are we going to go get our drunk selves in some trouble or not? I feel like going for a horse race and a bet you Scorpion can outrun Roach before we hit the wharf!"

 


	2. It Was One Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt brain has a hard time letting go of that drunken conversation. Eskel is a nice guy, because its Eskel and that's how he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As before any mistakes are my own no beta around here. Hope you guys enjoy this, I didn't find enough Eskel love in this fandom so I made some. I feel like he should get as much as Geralt!  
> Again if there is interest I will keep posting, I have probably at least 6-8 more chapters in my brain.  
> Feedback is appreciated since this is the first work I have written.

Geralt felt warm. No scratch that, he felt hot. He could feel the sun beating down on his side mercilessly. Gods what time was is? He didn’t have to open his eyes to know it was going to be bright out. He looked at the back of his eyelids and could tell just by how bright the red there was. _Sun,sun, go AWAY._  He thought to himself. Oh hell, he did it to himself. Why did he insist on drinking with Eskel or Lambert? It always ended the same.

Beginning a self-assessment Geralt wiggled his toes determining he was still wearing his boots. That was a good sign. _Point for me._ He thought to himself quietly. Still his legs felt unreasonably hot in the sun. He reached his hand down to tap his fingers on the outside of his thigh, eyes still closed against the brightness. He felt his leather gloved fingers… on his not leather covered thigh. Well FUCK. _Lost my point and my pants._

Slowly cracking one eyelid open Geralt looked around. He was laying on his right side next to a now dead campfire. Roach was grazing a way off in the field and looked to still be wearing her saddle. He struggled to bring himself up to sitting and opened both eyes all the way. Ugh. It was going to be a long day. He whistled for Roach. _Oh gods. Bad idea._ Someone was stabbing him in the ears, behind his eyes. That was so loud. Roach trotted happily over nudging his head. He dry-heaved and then looked up at her. _What in gods?_ His pants were straddling her saddle. He grabbed a stirrup with his hand and heaved himself up to standing using Roach to keep himself steady. She was such a good horse. Loved him even though he didn’t deserve it.

“Easy now.” Geralt just leaned himself on Roach, head against her saddle for a minute, eyes closed. Then he looked at his leather pants. It appeared that one of the knees was newly patched up. _Huh. Wonder what I did to rip that up? Don’t think I fixed it either_. Above the pants looped on the saddle horn was a carmine red leather bag that he recognized was not his but Eskel’s. He flipped up the flap on it and peaked inside. There was a small straight flask of golden liquid, a round of bread, something wrapped in waxy paper, a note, and Geralt’s water bag. He opened the note:

 

      1st White Honey

      Wait ½ a bell

      2nd eat bread, drink water

      Wait ½ a bell

      3rd eat fruit/nut mix, drink more water

      You’ll be right as rain I promise

               Trust me -E

 

Ugh. _Seriously Eskel. I am not a child._ Was all he could think. I am an old damn man. With a hangover. Who the hell cheats a hangover with a witcher potion anyway? Apparently Eskel did, because he was nowhere around. Plus, his pants had already been fixed. Geralt quirked an eyebrow at Roach. “Ah what the hell, what’s good for Eskel is probably good for me, right girl?” He uncorked the white honey and swallowed it in one gulp. At least that one didn’t taste bad. His stomach still roiled at it though. He heaved but managed to keep it down.

Alright, pants next. He slid his leathers off Roach’s saddle and put them on never letting one hand leave her side lest he topple over. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth and the white honey hadn’t done anything to improve that situation but he was going to see Eskel’s special hangover note through so he would wait a full half bell before eating and drinking. He checked his saddle bags to make sure he wasn’t missing anything other than the chunk of money he had spent on booze and watching girls dance last night. Everything seemed to be in order. He finally let go of Roach and braved bending down to roll up his sleeping mat. He tied it behind the saddle and swung Eskel’s red bag forward a little before putting his foot in the stirrup and swinging himself up. The world swam in front of his eyes but not as much as he expected it would.

He looked around again. Ahh Portside Gate was to the north, a windmill in the distance the west. He was pretty sure he killed a wraith here once. Leave it to them to start at the Passiflora and end up sleeping in a field south of the city. He had a vague memory of them attempting to see if they could swim the river faster than their horses last night. Maybe that was what happened to his pants. He nudged Roach to the south. “Slowly.”

Geralt dug in Eskel’s bag for the bread and tore a bit of to chew on. So dry. He fished out his water bag. _That’s better._ He guzzled a quarter of the bag before he decided he better slow down when his stomach grumbled at him. He continued to chew on the rest of the bread and finished off the water bag as he made his way slowly south. He stopped to refill the bag at a clean creek. He scratched behind Roach’s ear, “You’re good to me Roach, we can probably speed up a little now.” He mumbled to her as he swung back into the saddle.

By the time he reached the Border Post Geralt was feeling better, munching on the fruit and nuts drinking water from his bag, and moving along at a regular pace. He was no longer squinting into the bright light of the sun and he was mulling over where he should head next to look for a lucrative contract. He approached the Border Post officers and saw the long line of people stretching out ahead of him. All headed in the opposite direction of him. As usual. _Guess I should head where ever they are running away from._ That was likely where there were contracts for him to work and gold to be made. Normal people ran from monsters, Geralt ran towards them.

He wove Roach past the huddled masses on the bridge pausing on the other side to dismount and check the board. Notes to lost family members telling them where their loved ones had headed if they were still alive. Offers of trade. Admonishments to behave in the camp. Nothing terribly interesting or promising. He mounted back up and continued south.

By afternoon Geralt was feeling positively _normal_. Great he mused to himself, _I guess I am never too old to learn new tricks_. He did still feel a bit like he had cheated though. One should suffer through their own punishment, right? That is what Vesemir would have said. Thinking back on their more recent escapades though he didn’t remember seeing Eskel doing a lot of suffering at his own hands. They had drunk-scoped that guy from the lodge and Eskel had been up _right as rain_ the next morning dancing with his sword in the yard preparing for the onslaught. He had insisted everyone leave him be and Geralt had assumed it was because he was hungover but maybe he was really just trying to still his mind before the battle. Sometimes Geralt had a sneaking feeling that Eskel knew more than the rest of them and that was why he was so at peace with everything. So calm about it all, reasonable about every situation.

Geralt reached into Eskel’s bag again and pulled out the note to read it again.

      Trust me -E

A small shiver went through Geralt reading that. Hmm he wondered what it would be like to trust Eskel that much, seemed like he could handle anything maybe he could handle Geralt after all.

What. The. FUCK. Mind out of the gutter old man!

Geralt shook himself and stuffed the note back into the bag. Gods. Where the hell had that idea come from. He knew Eskel could be a kinky man, horns and all that, but he was content with his women, sorceresses at the most, thank you very much. He shook himself again and banished all wandering thoughts from his mind. He would head to Mulbrydale or Lindenvale and check the boards there, find a contract and make back some of the money he just spent.

 

Which is exactly what Geralt did. Mulbrydale had a gravehag that was causing them some serious issues. Issues which he happily dispatched for the right price. A small amount of gold remade and the weather being fair he decided that he would skip the inn tonight and camp outside of town. He turned Roach loose to graze and made a small tower of sticks and kindling lighting it with a quick snap of igni. He flipped out his bedroll and placed Roach’s saddle at the top. It sort of made the worlds most uncomfortable pillow but over the years he had grown accustomed to it. Eskel’s red bag hung down the side of it so he stretched the strap to its limit and placed it at the bottom of the saddle creating a softer slope up. _Hmm better pillow now than usual,_ he mused. He laid on his back, crossing his ankles and resting his hands on his stomach. He stared up at the stars concentrating on the warm feel of the fire on his legs and arms until he drifted off.

_Geralt couldn’t move. His heartbeat was thudding in ears so loudly he couldn’t really hear much else. He was facedown but he wasn’t scared. Everything was going to be alright he was sure of it. He tried to push up onto his knees to get up. His naked ass was greeted by an equally naked and very aroused man. The man’s thick legs were settled around his, knees on either side of his, his shins crossed back over Geralt’s calves and ankles tucked around his holding his legs down. That’s why he couldn’t move. Geralt felt panic rising in his chest. His heart thudded faster. This was bad, he was stronger than normal men, why couldn’t he just toss this asshole off?_

_A large bare chest settled over his back and big warm hands slowly slid up his arms to twine into his fingers. He felt soft dry lips brush his left ear as he struggled to throw the man. The shell of his ear caught on a silky notch in the lip._

_“Shhh, I’ve got you. Trust me.” Eskel’s voice was husky and filled with promises of pleasure in his ear._

 

Geralt shot bolt upright on his bedroll. He was covered in a light sweat that glowed in the dying firelight. He was breathing fast, gulping air. He was hard. Oh gods.

“Fuck.”

He rolled on his side away from the dying fire. What was wrong with him? He pushed hard on his aching erection through his leathers with his palm, willing it down. It was not complying. One drunken conversation. That’s all it was. It was not like he actually trusted anyone enough to let them do that to him. Not even Eskel. Besides it would be so weird. He’d been around a long time and as he had told Eskel he didn’t judge anyone for it but he didn’t find anything arousing about the idea of a man putting their cock anywhere near him. He was the one who did that. He was the one who took care of his lovers. He didn’t need someone to do it for him. It might feel nice to be on the receiving end of a soft touch or something once in a while but not like that. He was sure of it. His body was telling him differently though. His cock was still aching and hard. It wasn’t going away.

“ _Fuck_. Fuck. FUCK. Fine.”

Geralt let out a slow shaky breath as he pulled on the laces around his leathers. Just this once. He’d get it out of his system and then he’d feel better, be able to let go of the idea. He pushed his shorts down enough to take himself in his hand and let out another breath louder and steadier this time.

He concentrated on the way it felt in the dream, his pinned ankles. He drew his hand up his velvety shaft slowly, enjoying the feel of his warm hand, imagining it was someone else’s. Eskel’s. Oh gods. He stroked himself slowly at first, biting his lower lip as he played the dream over in his head again and again. He sped up bringing his fingers over his head and spreading the dribble of precum leaking there over it. He groaned and thought about the way the Eskel’s scarred lip had felt like silk on his ear, would it really feel that way? He grunted and came, HARD.

Once his breathing had slowed back down to a normal rate he opened his eyes and looked into the darkness. He wiped his hand on the grass next to his bedroll until it was cleaner. There would be no more sleep tonight. He swiveled around to his pack and got his water bag and a rag. He busied himself cleaning himself up and re-lacing his breeches. Then he turned towards the dying fire and brought it back to life with igni. He settled on his knees and placed his hands on his thighs. He starred into the flames and emptied his mind. It was dawn before he knew it.


	3. North by Eskel?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt is in denial but his body has made up its mind to go north. Eskel takes care of him and things get hot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta  
> things start to get spicy  
> thanks for all the kudos, comments, and hits!

It was well over a month on the Path before Geralt ran into a familiar face again. Keira Metz was leaning against the fence outside of the alderman’s hut in the small backwater village he was slogging through on the far outskirts of White Orchard.

“Geralt!” Keira called.

“Hey there!” he called back to her as Roach sidled her way up next to her. “Been quite a while since I’ve seen you around these parts. Where did you lose Lambert?” He was looking around the tiny grouping of huts, but Lambert was nowhere to be seen.

Keira simply jerked a thumb over her shoulder towards the alderman’s hut. “He’s squabbling over drowner heads.” She sighed, “I just needed more drowner tongues, but he insists this place will pay him for cleaning the swamp up a bit. Something about two birds with one stone.”

Lambert burst out of the creaky grey shack humming a tune to himself, tossing a small pouch up and down in the air. He looked up and saw Geralt standing next to where he had left Keira at the fence.

“Well well, the old man does still live. What in Melitele’s tits are you doing in this shitehole Geralt?” Lambert slid his arm around Keira’s waist as he talked. “We’re only here because someone needs an endless supply of drowner tongues and it was too hot and dry where we were to get them. Perks of sorceresses though. Quick portal and you are right at your ingredients doorsteps!”

“I was just passing through, looking for my next contract as always Lambert. Good to see you. Good to see you’re happy.”

Lambert snorted loudly, “I don’t know if I would say I’m happy Geralt.” He slipped the tiny sack of money into his pocket just as Keira thumped him in the gut with the back of her hand.

“You’re definitely less angry. I am not that awful to be around!” Keira’s eyes bored a tiny hole into Lambert’s shoulder.

“I didn’t say I was unhappy either Keira. Now come on, would you be happy with 7 orens a head for drowners?” He gave her a light squeeze and a quick peck on the forehead. “That’s horse shite for good work. I am what I am, but at least I am around you.” Lambert smiled at her.

“Are you two staying around here, at the inn in White Orchard maybe?” Geralt asked.

“Hell no, White Wolf! Got a real bed with my name on it one portal away, why would I pay good gold to sleep in some gods forsaken inn?” Lambert muttered. Keira hip-checked him shooting him a sideways look. “Though, I guess if you want some company for the evening, we could ride over with you and have some dinner. Maybe I could kick your ass at a round or two of Gwent even.”

"Actually, that sounds like a great way to spend the evening to me Lambert.” Geralt swung back up onto Roach and led the way out of the shanty town towards White Orchard and the only real inn for miles around.

 

They had played a couple of rounds of gwent and true to form Lambert had handed Geralt his ass. Then Kiera had handed Lambert his. After that Lambert wasn’t as interested in playing anymore.

The inn smelled like stale beer and roast rabbit. Geralt longed for better beer, but the roast rabbit stew and fresh bread was delicious. Even Keira agreed, and she was notorious for her hard to please palate.

“It’s not like all food has to have some exotic ingredient or spice to be worthy, Geralt,” She shook her head just a little continuing, “sometimes it is about bringing the right combination of fresh ingredients together. Letting them accent each other in the right ways. Enough about the unexpectedly delicious meal though. What have you been up to since we last saw you?”

“Same as always Keira, walking the Path. Trading trophies for money. Gravehags, rotfiends, necrophages of all sorts are running all over from here to Novigrad.” He sighed, “The war’s been hard on Velen.”

“War is always hard wherever it goes Geralt, that is nothing new, and witchers always walk the Path. You mean to tell me in three months nothing interesting or significant has happened to you? You haven’t seen or heard from any of our friends? Ciri? We at least get a regular update from Triss regarding the Lodge.”

 _Oh, interesting things happened,_ thought Geralt _, but I don’t want to talk about that._

“Ciri is busy training with Emhyr to take over when its time, you know that. We haven’t had time to meet and catch up and its’s not like its easy to get a letter to me on the Path. I am sure she will visit me at Kaer Morhen this winter though. She’ll always know where I am in the winter.” Geralt let out a breath, “And I saw Eskel twice.”

“Oh! How is that bastard?” Lambert asked, perking up from his beer.

“He’s not a bastard Lambert, don’t be such an ass.” Geralt groused, “He was… good.”

“Oh, he’s a bastard alright! Remember last time we all got drunk together at Kaer Morhen? I ended up wearing Yennefer’s dress and we megascoped that fellow and scared the piss out of him?” Lambert laughed hard into his tankard. “Only Eskel coulda talked me into that.” Keira was giving Lambert a look that said she would be getting the full detailed story out of him later.

 _Last time I got drunk with Eskel, I ended up with dreams._ Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose and smiled weakly in Lambert’s direction. _Dreams that still won’t go away no matter how badly I want them too._

Keira piped up, “We bumped into Eskel too, a month or so ago. He seemed okay. He said he wasn’t ready to go back to Kaer Morhen yet, but he did ask about you.”

Geralt raised his eyebrows. A month ago? That was long after they had agreed to meet and blow off steam in Novigrad. In fact, that was probably shortly after they had. “Wondering if I had gotten myself killed yet no doubt.” Geralt mused, “Where was he?”

“Kovir. He seemed a bit worried about you,” Kiera stated matter of factly, “thought you might do something reckless, since Ciri had left to learn from Emhyr, and you and Yenefer broken the spell with the djinn.” Her eyes softened, “He said he thought you needed your friends more than ever now.”

“I have many friends Kiera. I assure you, and Eskel if he asks, that I am fine. I am old and cranky. It’ll take more than a couple of girls moving on from me to kill me.” _Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like a bitch though,_ he winced to himself. Geralt was always pretty free with himself letting plenty of people in, and they were always happy to toss it back in his face it seemed.

“He mentioned he was going to spend time hunting contracts in Kovir and Poviss before working his way back down towards Novigrad. Didn’t say what after that.”

“I am sure he’s got a reasonable plan for winter. Always does. But it’s getting late, and you two may have a portal and a nice bed waiting, but I need to buy a room still. Will the two of you be coming to Kaer Morhen this winter?” Geralt asked Lambert.

Lambert purposely did not look at Keira, instead starring at the wall to the right of Geralt’s head. “We’re still debating it.” Keira looked at her empty beer mug, tipping it too and fro on the table.

“Well then, I’ll see you when I see you?” Geralt stood and so did they. Keira smiled at him and gave him a hug. Lambert just smirked and slapped him on the back. They said their goodbyes as the couple wandered out the front door and headed away from town before portaling home.

Geralt didn’t know how Lambert did it. He hated portals. He would rather sleep on straw in the stable than portal home every night. He always felt like he was being ripped into a thousand pieces and then stuffed back together but he was never sure they got the parts in the right spot. He wanted to vomit. Every time. No thank you, but he smiled to himself that Lambert was happy. Or at least as close happy as he thought he would ever see Lambert be.

Geralt continued over to the inn-keep and purchased a room for the night. Then he went out to retrieve his saddlebags from Roach in the stable. He wandered down the hallway and into the tiny room. At least it was dry. He looked at the shabby bed. He didn’t really care, he wouldn’t be using it anyway. He loosened his sword belts and took them off laying them on it. Then he stripped off his leather chest piece and hung it on the bedpost. He took his swords and sat on the bed to sharpen and oil them. That always relaxed him. When he was done, he leaned them against his armor on the bedpost. He took off his gloves and slid the open end of each one over the grip of each one his swords. _Let them air out._ He went to the dresser and splashed his face with water from the bowl and wiped his hands, face and neck down. _Better_.

Looking wistfully at the bed again as he walked over to the fire grate and snapped it to life with igni he knew there was no way he would get a dreamless sleep tonight if he went to bed. Not after all the talk of Eskel at dinner, and seeing Lambert and Kiera touching so much. It wasn’t even worth trying. Instead he just settled himself in front of the fire in his boots, leathers, and shirt. On his knees with his feet under his butt he settled his hands on his thighs and tried to settle his mind. _I’ll just meditate until dawn tonight, sleep will be for another night._ At least then he wouldn’t wake up with an aching cock and the feel of Eskel’s hands on his skin.

 

When Geralt opened his eyes at the break of dawn he felt better still than he had the night before after cleaning himself up. His head felt clear and he was ready for the day. He gathered his items from the bedpost and buckled himself back into his armor and gloves. He placed his swords back on and tightened the belts back up so they wouldn’t slip and slide around. He took his saddle bags out to the stable and made sure that Roach was getting an appropriate breakfast for such a fine mare. He patted her flank. “Now breakfast for me and then we’ll head out Roach.”  
He purchased a bowl of porridge and stocked up on essentials with the inn-keep. Fruits and nuts, spirits, beer, dried meat, twine, and a few other odds and ends. When he was done eating, he loaded all of his reserves into his saddlebags, except the fruit and nuts which he placed into the red leather bag that still hung on his saddle horn along with his water bag. And the hangover note. It was worn and badly creased, but he didn’t have the urge to throw it away, so he kept it. Gods only knew why.

_Trust me. -E_

He led Roach out of her stable and mounted up. This time he headed north.

Geralt was several days into his ride before he consciously realized he was making his way towards Novigrad. Then he spent a whole day’s ride mulling it over in his head; trying to decide why he had gone north without realizing that was what he was going to do, and whether or not it even mattered. He _did_ want to run into Eskel again. Especially since Eskel probably wasn’t ready to revisit Kaer Morhen this winter so soon after everything with the Wild Hunt. Otherwise it could potentially be spring again before he saw him, and that was too long. They were witchers after all who knew what could befall someone in their line of work in that amount of time. They were both pushing 100 and good at their jobs but you still never _knew_.

And yet… Oh gods. He was still dreaming and when he woke up aching, he was still wondering- would it actually feel the way the way he dreamed it would. And that was terrifying. Could he even look Eskel in the face? How many times had he brought himself off to the thought of Eskel above him, covering his body with his own? Taking him in a way no woman ever could.  
His stomach was tight at the thought and his breathing was shallower than it ought to be. He kept heading north though.

Geralt thought back to all the times he had fought along side Eskel. Eskel was right he did trust him with his back explicitly, always, without question. Be it forktails or the Wild Hunt Geralt had never once even questioned that Eskel would be there to fight with him. Be there for him. Drink with him. Blow off steam with him. Eskel was so reasonable about everything, maybe it wouldn’t be weird. Eskel would just laugh it off and tell him he needed to visit the Passiflora, get a man for the night to try it, give him a lopsided smile and an I-told-you-so. It wasn’t like he had to tell Eskel _who_ he was dreaming about.

 

Roach plodded along her shoes clipping on the stones of Glory Gate bridge. Geralt pondered where he should even head. Novigrad was ringing with livelihood. Throngs of merchants and shoppers and crowded the streets. All the displaced from the war seemed to have found purchase after all. Hopefully there was a room left somewhere. Maybe he would just go straight to the Chameleon were his friends were likely to squeeze him in. Across the bridge he hopped off Roach and turned left. He walked her through the crowded streets.

At the Chameleon he was disappointed to learn Dandelion and Priscilla were not in residence. Apparently, they had gone off in search of a healer for her voice. Good for them, but Geralt was sad to miss out on seeing them anyway. When he asked the inn-keep about a room for Dandelion’s closest friend however the man gave him a flat look and a sigh. Business was good. So good in fact that they were completely full. A free meal, booze on the house, why sure, but a room was not to be had.

Free food and drink was better than nothing and never to be turned down. So Geralt resigned himself to the fact that he would probably be revisiting the fields south of the city tonight but with a full belly and a buzz damn it all. He parked himself at a table with a tankard and waited for dinner to come to him.

In the middle of shoveling his dinner into his mouth a carmine red leather clad hand dropped tankard next to him on the table. Geralt’s spoon stopped halfway to his mouth.

“Wolf!” Eskel stepped into the bench with first one then the other leg, seating himself right next to Geralt and setting down his bowl of stew. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” He was half smiling.

Geralt’s spoon continued its journey to his mouth, albeit much slower. He chewed giving himself time to respond. “I ran into Lambert and Kiera a way back, they mentioned you might make your way back here before winter. Thought I might see you before spring.” It was the truth.

Eskel smiled then, his scar tugging at his face and a small glitter in his eyes, “I’m flattered Wolf. Where are you going to stay? City is nearly full.”

“Mmmhmm. So I have seen. I’ll just camp in the south fields.”

“Bullshit. Stay with me. I’ve got a decent room here. It’s plenty big enough for two. No reason for you to sleep on the ground when we could share.”

Geralt’s stomach dropped through the floor. He nearly choked on his beer. His groin was hot all of a sudden and his chest was cold.

“You alright?” Eskel thumped him on the back, “I don’t mind, honest. In fact, I insist. What kind of friend would I be if I let you sleep in a field while I slept in a comfy bed next door?”

“Alright.” Geralt groaned. This was a terrible idea.

They finished their stew and ordered more beer. It was good beer, thick and strong, almost chewy. They watched the cabaret dancers swing and kick. It was loud and raucous and wonderful. They chatted about their various jobs over the summer. Eventually though it grew late and Eskel insisted it was time to turn in.

“Go ahead, I’ll be up later, I am still enjoying my beer and the show.” What Geralt said was true. He also couldn’t quite bring himself to end the night in what was surely going to be an awkward way.

“Suit yourself Wolf.”

 

Geralt waited a full bell. He had ordered another beer and finished it. When he was sure that Eskel had finished his nightly routine and gone to sleep he headed up to the second floor. He quietly opened the door and entered the room. It was nice. There was a bath to the side with a wooden privacy wall, a door that led to a small balcony, a dresser with a wash basin and mirror. The fireplace was opposite the bath and the head of the double bed was against the wall that led to the balcony.

Eskel was lying on the bed in his leathers and shirt stretched out. His ankles were crossed, and his head was propped up against the pillows and headboard with his hands behind them, fingers interlaced. He had a peaceful look on his face. His chest armor, gloves, and boots were stacked on the dresser. His swords were in their scabbards leaning up against the bedpost by his head.

Geralt let out a breath as silently as he could. His groin was warm again but at least his stomach stayed where it belonged. He went about shrugging out of his items as quietly as he could so he wouldn’t wake Eskel. Arranging them all neatly by the side of the fireplace where he would meditate for the night. Just as he was settling down on his haunches in front of it he heard Eskel speak.

“Geralt, what are you doing?”

“Uh, going to meditate?”

“You don’t meditate in a warm inn with a nice bed when you aren’t headed to a fight tomorrow. C’ mon you idiot, left you half the damn bed."

“Uh… I really shouldn’t. You don’t want me to sleep next to you Eskel.” Geralt was panicking.

“I really do, or I wouldn’t have offered it. It’s that simple. Trust me Geralt.”

Geralt’s groin heated up again at those words, his stomach sank to he floor, but he got to his feet and went and sat on the edge of the bed opposite Eskel anyway. He did trust Eskel. He stared at the wall for a moment. “Thing is, I have been...” _Deep breath_ “having these weird dreams,” Geralt continued quickly before he lost it, “and I don’t want to disturb you.”

“You could never disturb me Geralt,” Eskel let out a nearly silent laugh, “lie down, relax, it will be fine, trust me. You look like you could use a good night’s sleep.” With that Eskel closed his eyes and appeared to drift back off.

 _This is such a shite idea_. Geralt swung his legs up in the bed and laid on his side facing away from Eskel. He tried to still himself and empty his mind. Maybe he could meditate lying down? He tensed each muscle in his body and let it go consciously starting with his toes, then his ankles, then his calves working his way up trying to fall into a meditative state without his usual position and fire.

The problem was whether Geralt wanted to admit yet or not, he was very comfortable. The bed was soft, the room warm. He felt safe around Eskel. He trusted, and so he fell asleep anyway.

 

_His breath came out shaky as felt Eskel’s soft dry lips drift over his carotid. He was arching his neck trying to give better access and he could feel Eskel smiling into the kiss as he did it. A small moan escaped him as Eskel’s hand pushed on his hipbone, demanding his hips and ass sink deeper against the bed. At the same time Eskel brought his leg over to settle in between Geralt’s knees, urging them apart. Eskel’s hand released the pressure on his hip and began to drag it’s knuckles down just below his hipbone moving towards where he really needed to be touched. “Eskel,” he moaned._

Geralt was startled awake by the sound of Eskel’s name. It had been quiet but it had been in his own low needy voice. He was on his back, the covers fisted in his hands, knees half parted, feet together. He had his hips tilted in the air, his throbbing cock searching for contact in the confines of his leathers. He starred blankly at the ceiling. _Oh Gods._ He closed his mouth and eyes, and lowered his hips back to the bed silently.

Eskel’s voice was calm and steady, “Geralt?”

 _Oh Gods. This is why this was such a piss poor idea!_ Geralt brought his hands up, pulling them down over his face, groaning. He wasn’t groaning from arousal now but anger. Frustration? Self-loathing maybe? Fuck he didn’t even know anymore. Eskel wasn’t a dull man though and Geralt was sure he could smell the salty arousal seeping off of him by now.

“Geralt I am right here. Are you… is everything all right?” Eskel’s voice was thick coming out but it didn’t waver.

Geralt grunted into his hands. “Obviously not, Eskel. I am so sorry. It’d probably be best if I just went.”

“No.”

"No?”

“No.”

Geralt risked a peek at Eskel out of the corner of his eye. He was lying on his side, head propped up on his hand as he watched Geralt intently. His feet were crossed at the ankles and his right hand rested on the blanket in front of him. He looked unperturbed by the whole horrifying situation.

“S’ok you can look at me. I won’t bite,” a little humor was creeping into Eskel’s reply, “unless you want me to.” The barest hint of a smile working at the good side of his face.

“Ugh!” Geralt pulled one hand down to hug his ribs in comfort and swatted at Eskel with the other because this entire situation was embarrassing. And now Eskel was making fun of him for it. “That is so _wrong_.”

“Nothing wrong with it.” Eskel stated reasonably, “Some people like those kinds of things.”

He looked plaintively at Eskel, honest words tumbling out of his mouth before he could even think to stop them, “I don’t even know _what_ I like anymore…”

“You said my name,” Eskel said slowly as he closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, “and you smell… like musk and the ocean.” His eyes were a little glassy when he opened them again.

Geralt couldn’t say anything back. _Eskel knew_. He knew, he could smell how aroused Geralt was, he had heard him call out his name. He hadn’t shoved Geralt straight out of his room. All he could manage was to just keep looking at Eskel and give a small nod.

“Do you trust me?” Eskel asked eyes still glassy.

Geralt’s whispered response was barely audible to unenhanced hearing, “Yes.”

“Then maybe you could start by telling me about your dreams? I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.”

Everything from Geralt’s stomach to his feet went hot followed immediately by cold. His groin throbbed. All the air escaped his lungs and the blood rushed back to his previously softening cock.

“Oh fuck.” Eskel wasn’t running. “You’d be alright with that?” Geralt wanted to make sure he really wasn’t going to run Eskel off. This was surreal.

"I’d be more than alright with it. I’d find it intoxicating to hear you tell me how much the thought of me arouses you.” Eskel’s voice had gotten thick with lust. He watched Geralt steadily.

“Alright, um,” Geralt licked his lips. “So I started dreaming about you after our last stay here in Novigrad. I began to wonder if maybe I trusted you enough to let you see me this vulnerable.” Eskel’s look was too intense for him and he closed his eyes before continuing, “I dream different things. Sometimes you hold me down. I like the way it feels… because you are bigger than me and even if I wanted to struggle you’re just as stronger or stronger. You’d never hurt me though, you’re body is hard over mine but your lips and your hands are so gentle with me. You touch me softly in places I never thought of being touched- like the insides of my wrists, the backs of my knees.”

Geralt opened his eyes and saw Eskel still watching him entranced as the fingers of his free hand began to twist and stroke the blanket in front of him. Eskel made no move to touch him though. He was just watching Geralt unravel, get this off his chest. Geralt continued, “Sometimes you are taking me face down urging me to let go while you bury yourself inside me, and others you kiss me breathless while you bring me off with your hand.”

Eskel swallowed thickly.

“Then I always wake up hard and frustrated. And I,” Geralt hesitated, “I stroke myself off while I wonder if your lips would really feel that soft,” he finished quietly.

Eskel remained riveted to Geralt’s face. When Geralt reached out to take the hand that was twisting in the covers he let him have it, let him tuck his own hand inside it.

“Eskel?”

“Yea?” Eskel’s response was heavy and deep with hunger.

“I want to know how your mouth feels,” Geralt’s hand left his and reached up to lightly touch the notch left in his lip by his scars, “how this feels on my skin. Please?”

Eskel smiled broadly, his scars pulling his face askew as he eagerly scooted closer to Geralt. He didn’t care about his face, Geralt didn’t care about his scars, he was curious about how they felt.  
He slid his forearm under Geralt’s neck and cradled his jaw in his other hand. Eskel’s thumb brushed slowly over Geralt’s lips making them ultra sensitive before he dipped his head down and began to kiss him. It was slow and gentle and nothing like the kisses Geralt had bestowed upon his previous lovers. Eskel took his time to explore Geralt’s lower, then upper lip, then each corner, never invading his mouth. It was soft, dry and warm, like sitting by a fire.The longer it went, the warmer he felt. Eskel’s hand wandered down to the back of his neck to hold him steady while his thumb traced circles over his artery, and still the kiss continued.

When Eskel finally pulled back Geralt was panting. Geralt reached up to trace the long lines of Eskel’s scars from above his eye down to his lip. _It does feel like silk._ Geralt rose up to give the notch a quick kiss before falling back against the bed again.

“More,” Geralt needed to feel those lips again, those hands on him. He had waited, wanted, for so long. Now he needed to find his release under Eskel’s hands.

Eskel brought his hand just under the edge of Geralt’s shirt pushing it up a little so the back of his fingers could run over the abdomen there, his knuckles bumping slightly over each scar and muscled ridge. “Yea, more?”

“Gods yes.”

Eskel brought his head down to nuzzle Geralt’s neck, placing gentle kisses over his carotid, behind his ear, over his collarbone and the hollow where it his chest met his neck. All the while he slowly let his hand tease its way up Geralt’s abs to his ribs.

Geralt’s breathing was getting faster and he could smell that he was no longer the only one whose arousal permeated the room. He reached down to lift his shirt the rest of the way off and over his head sending it sailing somewhere off to the side of the bed. Eskel huffed a laugh against his skin and continued kissing his way down his chest. Geralt bucked his hips into the air. Gods he wanted more, so much more.

“You just have to ask, Geralt. I can give you what you need.” Eskel promised. Those words made Geralt feel dizzy. His face felt hot even though he knew he was stripped of the ability to blush.

“Please.” Geralt begged. _Gods don’t make me say it. I don’t know what I want. I just want you._

“What,” Eskel pressed his lips to a scar on Geralt’s chest “do,” he moved one scar over punctuating each word with a kiss “you,” brushing a third scar with his lips “ _need?_ ” lips tugging at the edge of a particularly deep scar.

The works fell from from Geralt’s mouth like a waterfall, “Anything. Everything. I don’t know. Eskel please. I trust you, just show me what I need.”

Eskel prowled backwards off the bed and Geralt whined at the loss of heat.

“What the hell?” Geralt was confused.

“S’alright.” Eskel removed his shirt and headed for his saddle bags. “I’m coming back.” He rifled through them quickly and returned tossing a tin of lanolin on the bed.

Geralt closed his eyes and waited. Eskel knelt on the bottom of the bed and ran his hands up Geralt’s leather clad legs. “These gotta go.” He carefully unlaced them making sure not to touch Geralt’s sensitive cock. He slid a hand under the edge of Geralt’s ass and rubbed, “Up.” Hips instantly lifted up in the air in response to his command. He curled his fingers around the waist of Geralt’s leathers and small clothes and began to shimmy both down together. Geralt dropped his hips back to the bed, eyes still closed, stiff cock now resting against his belly. His legs instinctively coming back together.

Eskel discarded the armor and clothing. He reached a hand up and placed it under one of Geralt’s knees pushing it up and out to the side. Geralt was in great shape and flexible but it still stretched the tendons on the inside of his thigh taught to have it out 90 degrees at like that. Eskel thought it was beautiful. He settled himself between Geralt’s legs and his hand began rubbing lightly on the inside of Geralt’s knee.

Geralt’s breath was stuck in his throat. His hands fell helplessly on the covers beside him.

Eskel brought his head down to Geralt’s outstretched thigh and began to kiss it by the knee. Working his way up towards Geralt’s tight tendon he placed his other forearm low across Geralt’s hips pressing down to keep Geralt from bucking up. That meant that Geralt’s leaking cockhead rested on the back of Eskel’s forearm but Eskel did nothing about it. It lay there twitching on his arm leaving a thin string of precum each time it rose off. Geralt was unable to thrust his hips with Eskel’s arm bracing him down and couldn’t gain any satisfaction from the teasing contact.

When Eskel’s mouth finally arrived at the hollow above the tendon he opened it and darted his tongue out to taste the saltiness there. He couldn’t resisted pulling the tendon into his mouth and sucking on it. He would leave a mark there.

A small cry burbled from Geralt as Eskel worked on junction of his thigh.

Eskel let go of his knee and found the lanolin, working the tin open while Geralt was distracted. He scooped some of the thick waxy substance onto his finger. He unlatched his mouth from Geralt’s inner thigh and gave a quick lick over the red area where the bruise would form later.

Geralt’s eyes opened wide when he felt the slick heat of Eskel’s tongue working a stripe from the base of his cock towards the head. He looked down and saw Eskel starring back up at him tongue extended to cock. Fuck that was hot. Then he felt Eskel’s hand nudging behind his balls. He tried to move his hips but Eskel still had him pinned with his forearm. He tried to move his hips again harder but Eskel’s arm held firm.

“S’ok,” Eskel starred into his eyes, “trust me it’s gonna feel good.”

Geralt relaxed his hips and closed his eyes. Eskel wasn’t going to hurt him. He tried to concentrate on the sensations. He felt Eskel’s hot tongue continue to lick up and down. He felt Eskel’s knuckle press into the skin between his balls and his hole. That made a pressure build behind his cock that he had never felt before. Then the knuckle left and he felt something waxy and a thick blunt fingertip resting over his tightly clenched entrance.

Geralt tried to breathe through the overwhelming sensations but his breath was ragged. Then a hot wetness engulfed the head of his cock and he moaned. Eskel was swirling his tongue around the flared head of Geralt’s cock in his mouth. His finger still just rested over Geralt’s entrance letting the lanolin warm and soften. Letting Geralt come to terms with this new sensation and idea.

As Geralt’s breathing became less disjointed and more rhythmic Eskel made his tongue more firm and drug it along the under side of Geralt’s cock head and up to dip into the slit. At the same time he started the move his finger in small circular motions over Geralt’s tight pucker.

Geralt gasped loudly, “Fuck!”

Eskel repeated the motion with his tongue, his finger ever curiously pressing and releasing the tension at Geralt’s entrance. Geralt let out a huge breath as his body shuddered. Eskel felt him relax and pressed in as that hot furl opened for him.

Eskel watched from where he had Geralt’s head in his mouth as Geralt’s jaw worked and then fell slightly open. He reached up with one hand to hold onto the headboard and down to slide the other into Eskel’s brown locks. He tried to lift hips again towards the heat of Eskel’s mouth and this time Eskel relaxed his hold to let him. Eskel closed his own eyes and let Geralt’s cock thrust shallowly into his mouth.

Eskel worked his finger slowly in and out of Geralt’s tight heat. Tugging the rim, circling it, pressing back in until his whole finger was buried. When he was sure Geralt was getting nothing but pleasure from it he placed a second thick finger next to the first and pressed in. Geralt bucked his hips up into Eskel’s mouth and cried out. Eskel pushed him through it until both fingers were fully seated and then he he bent his fingers forwards until he felt a small bundle and Geralt went stiff.

“Es.. Eskel.” Geralt stuttered.

The pressure behind his cock was immense. Geralt had never felt anything like it before. He felt like was going to explode. Eskel kept rubbing that spot and the pressure was building higher. Flooding his belly, his thighs, his cock.

Eskel did that thing with his tongue again, making it stiff running it under head of Geralt’s cock and up to dip into the slit tasting the precum there. And Geralt was gone. “Fuck. Eskel. Oh Gods yes!”

His vision went grey, and he emptied himself into Eskel’s mouth. He could feel his own ass clenching tightly on Eskel’s fingers. His held his breath and his eyes were watering. What from he didn’t know. The intensity of his orgasm, or emotion? He didn’t care he just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep.

Eskel swallowed him down and kept his fingers still while Geralt rode out his orgasm. When it was over and he was too sensitive he pulled his mouth off and withdrew his fingers rubbing them over Geralt’s entrance to soothe it.

“Nngh, I,” Geralt tried.

Eskel pulled himself up the bed and laid next to Geralt pulling him in close. Geralt curled up and leaned into him letting out a shuddering breath. “Shhh,” Eskel whispered, tucking Geralt’s head under his chin.

“Fuck. What about you?” Geralt's voice was hoarse.

“That was so hot. So good. I’ll get mine, not tonight though. Shhh. Sleep now.” Eskel threw a leg over Geralt’s body and drew him in as close as he could. He rubbed Geralt’s back and ran a hand through his hair. He concentrated on stroking Geralt and willed his body to calm. Tonight was not his night.


	4. No One But Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt gets to talk things over, a bit of city life and Eskel finally gets his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no beta, super NSFW, all mistakes and commas are my own

Geralt stirred when he felt a warm leather-clad leg slide up his own naked one. He didn’t want to wake up though. He was having the best sleep he’d had in months. He drifted. He felt warm coarse fingertips trace the dips and swells of his spine, starting below his neck and working down between his shoulder blades. His back was cool everywhere the fingers weren’t touching. Actually he wasn’t exactly warm except for where he was curled facing Eskel, his face buried in Eskel’s neck, and where the leg lay over him.

“Mmhmm,” Geralt murmured in his half sleep.

Eskel was hungry. Geralt’s body was cool in his arms. He looked peaceful, at rest finally. Eskel thought he could lay for another hour just stroking his fingers along Geralt’s spine, scratching through his hair to his scalp. Watching his breath evenly.

His stomach growled loudly in protest. Alright, maybe not for another hour. It was already well past dawn, late by witcher standards.

He wove his hand into the hair at the base of Geralt’s neck and Geralt groaned quietly and pressed back into the hand. Eskel brought his thumb to the arch of Geralt’s mandible, tipping his head up just enough to access his mouth. Eskel placed an easy smooth kiss there.

“I’m gonna get us some food okay?” another tender kiss on the edge of Geralt’s lips, “I’m not leaving. You sleep.”

Eskel withdrew his hand and his leg and Geralt groaned in objection to the loss of his only warmth. Eskel deftly rolled off the bed and pulled the part of the blanket he had been sleeping on top of over Geralt, tucking it around him. He knelt over and pulled the rest of the blanket behind Geralt up over his back as well.

“I’ll be right back.” He whispered in Geralt’s ear before getting back off of the bed.

His stomach growled at him again as he stretched his arms above his head. He couldn’t help the wide lopsided grin he caught in the mirror as he gathered his armor from the dresser and began to dress silently. Geralt had come apart for him, and it was incredible. He wanted to do it again. Right now. But first he really needed to piss, and they would need to eat, and doubtless Geralt would want to talk about all this.

Eskel headed downstairs to the main hall of the Chameleon. He nodded at the inn-keep, noting that it was pretty empty, at least compared to lately. “Could we get a couple bowls of breakfast? I’ll grab them on my way back through,” he asked. The inn-keep gave him a shrug and headed off to the kitchen area. Eskel continued out the back door and around the corner to the ditch to relieve himself. He closed his eyes and felt the sun on his face for a moment enjoying the heat. Novigrad wasn’t so bad as long as you remembered not to smell too deeply. He opened his eyes and laughed at himself as he re-laced his leathers and headed back in to fetch their breakfast.

 

Eskel carried two bowls of barley porridge with honey and herbs as he mounted the stairs back up to his room. It smelled divine and his mouth was watering. The inn-keep, his name was Thomas and Eskel would remember it now, had also given him two hard boiled eggs. He shouldered the door open as quietly as he could manage, peering in to see if Geralt was still asleep.

Geralt was indeed still curled in the cocoon of blanket that Eskel had left him wrapped in, his steady breathing told Eskel that he was still resting. Eskel set an egg and one bowl on the dresser. He stuffed the other egg whole into his mouth as he observed Geralt, naked wrapped in the blanket, white hair laid out on the pillow behind him. He would never get tired of that sight.

Eskel took his bowl over and opened the door to the balcony. He raised a spoonful of porridge to his lips and blew on it to cool it as he took in the people moving by in the street below. A woman in a green skirt hurried past with a large wrapped bundle. She had a flaxen colored headscarf over her hair. _Elf_ , Eskel decided, _she carries herself to gracefully to be human_. Two boys chased after each other with with wooden swords in the other direction. He tasted the porridge. It sang sweetly on his tongue with extra honey. He continued watching the people, eating his porridge as it cooled. As he scraped the last of the barley from the bottom of the bowl Eskel tensed his calves and stood on his tip toes, stretching, he put the spoon in his mouth and dropped back onto his heels sucking the spoon clean.

Eskel heard an almost silent laugh from the bed. He startled and looked over to see Geralt still curled in the blanket but very much awake and observing him. Eskel pulled the spoon from his mouth and let it clang into the bowl half-smiling, “Morning.”

“Enjoying yourself?” asked Geralt.

“Yup.” Eskel’s satisfied half-smile remained.

“I’m starving. I haven’t slept that long in a couple of months.” Geralt sat up and swung his legs off the edge of the bed facing away from Eskel. The blanket pooled around his hips.

Eskel made a satisfied noise and stepped towards the dresser. "Glad I could help.” He set his bowl down, trading it for the full one. “I got you porridge, there’s an egg too.”

Geralt pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and let out a breath. When he opened them and looked up Eskel was standing there in front of him fully dressed in his armor holding out the bowl of porridge with an egg on top. He looked way too pleased with himself. As Geralt sat on the edge of the bed naked except for the blanket around his hips he felt vulnerable, and well, guilty.

“Listen, last night,” he knew he better get this out quick, “ was… intense. In a good way,” he held up his hand to keep Eskel from stopping him. If Geralt needed to talk before eating Eskel wasn’t going to stop him but his food might get cold. _At least I got to eat_ , Eskel thought to himself wryly.

“I’ve been around awhile but I clearly don’t know everything there is to know, cause that felt amazing and I am really sorry you didn’t get anything out of it.” Geralt was starring at the porridge bowl waiting for a response. Now that he was done he didn’t know what else to do.

Eskel waved the bowl insistently in front of him, and he finally took it. Geralt began eating his breakfast in order to distract himself from the sudden silence after his apology.

Eskel started calmly, “I am glad last night was amazing for you,” as he took a seat on the bed next to Geralt, “but if you think I got nothing out of that, you are _sorely_ mistaken,” he snorted.

Geralt paused his eating and cast a sideways look at Eskel, “But you didn’t even… get,”

“Not all pleasure is about releasing, Geralt,” Eskel grinned and flopped backwards to lie on the bed with a huff. “Watching you completely give yourself up to me like that, _fuck_ , nothing sexier than that. You let me have a little piece of you that no one else has ever had.” He let his fingers trace lightly over the top of Geralt’s ass cheek where it peeked out of the covers. “ _Ever_. And it’s mine now. I wanna do that to you over and over again.”

Geralt’s skin tingled where Eskel’s fingers were touching him lightly. The marked area on his inner thigh where he’d been sucked and licked and bruised throbbed at the thought of Eskel doing it again. He ached behind his balls where Eskel had touched him last night.

“I’m not saying I don’t ever want to cum with you, because I really do. I just want you to know if I don’t its my choice. I am still getting off in other ways, and it will only make it stronger for me next time. If,” Eskel risked, “you want a next time, that is?” He stilled his fingers on Geralt’s ass.

“I do… Gods no woman has ever made me cum like that,” Geralt hesitated, “but only if we’re still friends Eskel. Your friendship means more to me than any amount of sex.”

Eskel sat up and turned to face Geralt with a serious look on his face. “We wouldn’t be friends Geralt. We’d be lovers.”

Geralt cut him off, “I don’t want to lose your friendship.”

“Have your lovers not been your friends?” Eskel looked at him reasonably like everyone gets along with their lovers. No one screams and yells, storming off to blatantly disregard the other's opinion like Yen had.

“Uh, my lovers,” Geralt mumbled, “have been rather complicated.”

“I am pretty simple. I fight monsters, I do what feels good, and I care about my friends above all else.” Eskel proclaimed, “And Geralt, my lover would be my best friend, closer to me than anyone else. You wouldn’t lose that.”

Geralt’s brain felt fuzzy. He had the feeling he was leaping before he looked and he had no idea how far down the fall was. “Alright.”

A huge grin spread on Eskel’s face, pulling at his scars. “You won’t regret this.” He slipped a hand around Geralt’s jaw, now scruffy with the need to shave and turned his head for a kiss. Geralt let him. Eskel pressed his lips against Geralt’s, opening his mouth and letting his tongue explore inside. He tasted like sweet honey and barley from the porridge, and Eskel hummed into his mouth before pulling away.

“Finish eating and get dressed. I need to drop some swords off with Hattori today.” Eskel gracefully rocked off the bed and strode over by the dresser where he busied himself locating his razor and heating a bowl of water with igni for his morning shave. He watched Geralt finish his breakfast in the mirror as he lathered his soap and applied it to his face. Geralt was searching for his leathers and small clothes on the floor as Eskel drug the razor down his cheek. The water was steaming in the small bowl on the dresser and the razor felt smooth and hard on his skin. Eskel had a brief image of Geralt seated on the three legged stool as he straddled and shaved him. Another day maybe. Eskel finished his left side and carefully worked around the scars on his right. When he was done Geralt had hunted down his shirt from the opposite side of the floor. Eskel rinsed his face and turned to sit on the stool watching as Geralt went to put on his boots, armor, and gloves.

“So Hattori’s first, market, then maybe some sword practice? I haven’t gotten to go up against another witcher in a long time.” Eskel said.

“Sure. I need to go by Vivaldi’s too. Got coin to exchange.” Geralt said clasping his last buckles.

 

It was just past eleven bells when Geralt and Eskel walked down the lane from the Chameleon toward Hattori’s shop. They chatted business with with him for a while before Eskel left his best silver sword for repair. Hattori promised to have it better than ever in two days time. In the meantime he had a backup if needed even though it wasn’t his preferred. They wandered over to the market near the harbor and Eskel bought some dried fish, cheese, bread, and a skin of quality beer. He tucked it all away in a leather pack and they made their way to Vivaldi’s bank where Geralt exchanged his monies. They popped into the bookstore in Hierarch Square but Geralt resisted the urge to buy anything. He didn’t see anything he hadn’t already come across in his travels anyway. Then Eskel insisted on stopping at the herbalist to buy something as they headed out the eastern entrance to the square.

The warm wind and the sun made for great weather to be out walking around Geralt thought. It wasn’t hot by any means but the sun heated his face perfectly. It felt refreshing to get out and move his legs. The long stroll through the city doing his both his mind and body wonders. Along the way curiosity got the better of Geralt and he asked Eskel a question that he just wasn’t sure how to bring up before.

“So you seem to know an awful lot about what _you_ like.”

“Been around a while Wolf, why wouldn’t I?” Eskel responded easily.

“You led me to believe you really enjoyed something about last night and you didn’t seem surprised.” Geralt pushed.

“Yup. Best night I’ve ever had with a man.” Eskel stated simply and honestly. He was walking side by side with Geralt looking straight ahead. He seemed totally unbothered by where this line of questioning was headed.

“So,” Geralt wondered how Eskel could remain so calm about something that was such a revelation to himself. He’d known Eskel since they were kids and this was a side of him he had never suspected, “there have been other men?” Geralt wasn’t sure if he was bothered by that or not, he knew he couldn’t rightly be jealous though as he’d never had an interest in Eskel before.

“Sure. I doubt you’d have enjoyed last night nearly as much if there hadn’t been.” Eskel looked at Geralt sideways with a half smirk.

“But before, in the Passiflora you said you didn’t really know what a man would get out of being fucked.” Geralt asked not sure if Eskel had lied to him previously. Eskel wasn’t the kind of person who lied to him.

“True, I know what I get out of taking a man but I don’t let men take me. I like to be in control, take care of my partners, I don’t like to give up control.” Geralt mulled that over, so Eskel wouldn’t know what that was like.

“So have there been a lot of others, before me I mean?”

“I’ve taken plenty of women, the occasional man, and the rare creature with horns to my bed Wolf. Does that bother you?”

Geralt knew it didn’t have the right to, hell he had quite the legendary reputation himself- minus the men and the horns. “Guess not.”

“Good.” Eskel looked straight ahead again, “cause Gods knows I have never asked any of them to be my lover.”

That settled the jealousy issue for Geralt. Gods be damned how Eskel gained his experience, maybe Geralt had a little piece of Eskel that no one else did either. For the first time all day Geralt grinned.

They went out Tretogor Gate and walked along the water until Portside. There they turned south into the fields to find a spot to spar.

Setting his bag to the side Eskel pulled his blade and positioned his feet one in front of the other, back foot turned out. “Show me what you got Wolf.”

Geralt immediately whirled on him pulling his sword as he did so. Eskel dropped his own to block. Geralt was fast, always had been, but Eskel relished the challenge. They circled each other before Geralt came at him in a flurry of attacks again. Eskel blocked- side, side, high. When Geralt pulled back from his last strike Eskel reach out with his sword to tap the flat on Geralt’s side before spinning away on his toes before Geralt could drop his arm to trap him.

“Bastard.” Geralt charged at Eskel swirling left, right, left, behind. Eskel was working up a serious sweat keeping up with the blocks before Geralt wiggled his fingers as he moved the sword from one hand the other and Eskel went flying backwards onto his ass with an aard.

Geralt strode up quickly and stood over him sword pointed at his chest, puffing loudly. Eskel let his own drop from his hand laughing, “Yield. I yield.” He said hold his sword hand open and up.

Geralt’s stern face relaxed and he reached his hand down to help Eskel up. He smiled at the feel of Eskel’s’ hand is his as he hauled him up to his feet. Eskel grabbed his sword and his dark amber eyes sparkled, “Again.”

 

It was late afternoon when they were too worn and sweaty to continue. Eskel dropped down on the ground next to his bag and pulled out the food he’d bought at the market. He used his knife to cut the cheese and bread into slices before making several sandwiches. Geralt sat down next to him and took a long drink off of the beer skin he was offered. Eskel handed him two sandwiches and they shared the beer while they caught their breath.

“M’gonna need a bath now.” Eskel said before tearing another bite off his sandwich.

“Hah, me too.”

“You could use a shave too.” Eskel prompted. He much preferred Geralt’s jaw smooth he’d decided.

“Really? You’re as bad as a girlfriend Eskel,” Geralt elbowed him.

 

Geralt could feel the sweat cooling on his skin as they walked back to Portside Gate. Just inside the city proper Geralt made up his mind. He actually didn’t own a razor, and he wasn’t about to borrow Eskel’s.

“You head on back to the Chameleon, I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

Eskel looked at him with a question in his eye, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just have a little business I want to take care of. I won’t be long,” Geralt replied. “Take that bath while I am gone. When I get back we will catch the cabaret show and have dinner.”

“S’pose. See you in a bit then.” Eskel said, but he was disappointed. He had hoped to drag Geralt into the bath _with_ him.

Eskel turned left and Geralt right. Geralt walked quickly up to the merchant stalls crowded around one of the city entrances and purchased a basic clean shirt and new small clothes. No point in cleaning up and putting his sweaty stuff back on. He carried the small package as he wound his way through the city streets to the barber shop. He pushed the door open and adjusted his eyes to the low light inside.

“Come on in Sir! What can I do ya for? Haircut, shave, or new style perhaps?”

“Just a shave will do, thanks.” Geralt said, taking a seat in front of the mirror.

He tried to relax as the man covered his face first in a steaming towel, then lather. Geralt had never been a fan of other people shaving him. Too risky, first his eyes were covered with a towel and he had to rely on other senses, then the other person had a straight blade at his neck. It always made him feel exposed and defenseless. It probably didn’t help that Emhyr’s people had a habit of practically interrogating him while forcibly shaving him each time he went to Vizima either. The barber was quick and efficient though and Geralt’s face and neck were smooth before long. Geralt thanked him and paid him before heading out to find a public bath.

Once he located one he stripped off his clothes and made quick work of washing every inch of his body. Given the places Eskel had touched him he even soaped and cleansed areas he often didn’t think much of. He washed his hair and pulled it back into a half ponytail before getting into the new clean underclothes he had bought. He put his armor back over them and then made his way as fast as he could back toward the Chameleon. He hoped he hadn’t left Eskel waiting too long.

 

Geralt arrived at the back door to the Chameleon having just rinsed his dirty clothes in the wash tub and hung them to dry overnight on the the line in the back of the inn. He entered and greeted Thomas. He looked about and did not see Eskel seated at any of the tables, and the show hadn’t started yet. Guessing that he was still upstairs Geralt headed up to Eskel’s room. He knocked softly on the door.

“M’busy,” Eskel replied gruffly.

“Is that so?”

There was a laugh on the other side of the door. “You can come in,” Eskel’s voice was relaxed now, “I thought you were cabaret staff.”

Geralt entered the room and found Eskel splayed out in the large wooden tub, eyes closed, head resting on the edge, wet hair falling back over it to drip on the floor. He had each foot propped up on the other edge of the tub a few feet apart from each other and he was rolling his ankles drawing small circles in the air with his feet stretching them. He raised his good eyebrow, stretching the left side of his face and opened his eye to look at Geralt. His semi-frown broke into a half-smile as he took in the freshly washed and shaven sight in front of him.

“Mmm now that’s a sight.” Eskel groaned a little as he adjusted the temperature of the water with igni. His hand then fell back under the water to join the other so that only his feet, shoulders, and head were above the steaming water again.

Geralt felt stiff in his leathers all of a sudden, “I could say the same.”

Both of Eskel’s eye’s were halfway open now, closely following Geralt as he walked over to the newly made bed to sit down. Geralt scooted to the center of the head of the bed and leaned back against the headboard watching Eskel back. The water in the tub was rocking ever so slightly and Eskel’s face had a look of intensity on it, lips just barely parted, but his breathing was steady. Geralt wondered if Eskel was stroking his cock under the water or if it was just from his small ankle movements. He felt his own cock twitch in his leathers at the thought.

“Still wanna catch the show?” Eskel asked after watching Geralt for a long time.

“Not really.” Geralt’s response came out more thickly than he intended. Eskel huffed out a laugh and he pulled his legs into the water, splashing as he sat up.

Eskel moved forward in the tub placing his arms on the edge where his feet rested a moment ago, interlocking his fingers and resting his chin on them. The serious look he gave Geralt caused heat to pool in his groin and his heartbeat to pick up a tick. “Want me to come over to that bed and strip you naked?”

Geralt’s head felt light, and his breathing picked up. He closed his eyes and swallowed as he slowly nodded his head yes.

He heard another splash and sloshing of water in the tub. His eyes sprung open and he saw Eskel stepping naked out of the tub in all his glory. Geralt’s cock twitched hard at the sight of that broad muscled chest, water rivulets running down to where his abdomen met perfectly formed hips. Eskel stalked towards him and Geralt’s heart raced. Eskel’s cock moved side to side between strong thighs. Geralt was mesmerized by it. It was different than his own Geralt noted. Even half hard it was thicker, though it didn’t seem to have the same length as his own.

His reverie was broken by Eskel’s knee sinking into the mattress as he began crawling up the bed towards Geralt. Eskel reached out to grab Geralt’s boot, unbuckling, then pulling it off. Eskel ran a finger from Geralt’s heel lightly up his arch to the ball of his foot while starring directly into Geralt’s eyes. “Ticklish?” Eskel queried in a deep commanding voice.

“No,” Geralt breathed out and closed his eyes.

“Look at me. You can close you eyes later,” Eskel demanded, “right now I want you to watch.”

Geralt’s cock throbbed and his breath came in a gulp but he opened his eyes and looked at Eskel.

“Good,” Eskel’s voice was deep with appreciation at Geralt’s compliance as he ran his finger from heel to the ball of Geralt’s foot again causing him to curl his toes and breath deeply. Eskel then moved on to remove the other boot and repeat the same treatment on that foot. Eskel wanted to make this night unforgettable for Geralt, and he needed Geralt to listen to him for that, he needed him to trust him, do everything Eskel would ask of him.

Eskel brought one foot up to his lips and pressed a light kiss right onto the arch, dragging his scarred lip back and forth there. Geralt’s breath caught in his throat at the soft feel in such an unexpected place.

“You’re so sensitive,” Eskel whispered against the arch of his foot, only intensifying the sensation as his words ghosted across the skin there. He let the foot back down to the the bed and pushed up on both of Geralt’s feet forcing his knees to bend apart spreading his legs.

All Geralt could do was just watch as Eskel crawled nakedly up between his legs and sat back on his haunches. Eskel ran his hands up Geralt’s thighs before reaching to take first one then the other hand and remove his gloves. Eskel placed Geralt’s hands on his own bare thighs and Geralt felt like he might be burnt. Eskel had been mostly clothed last night and Geralt hadn’t really touched his skin that much. The color contrast was particularly arousing to Geralt. Eskel _looked_ warm. His skin was three or four shades darker than Geralt’s own paleness. Those thighs that had just come out of a steaming tub felt hot under his pale hands.

Eskel leaned forward and cupped Geralt’s jaw with his hands. He kissed him slowly and methodically. Exploring every bit of Geralt’s lips as he let one hand drop to start working on the buckles at the front of Geralt’s armor. Once he had worked the front catches open Eskel slid his hand inside and sought out Geralt’s nipple. He used his thumb to rub it through the shirt, working the cloth against it until it was pebbled and hard. Geralt’s fingertips pressed into Eskel’s thighs lightly and he tried to tilt his head back to rest it against the wall above the headboard, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. Eskel followed him back though, hand still on his jaw, mouth still exploring his lips.

Eskel drew Geralt’s bottom lip into his mouth and bit down at the same time he squeezed the teased-hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The over sensitive nipple throbbed in Eskel’s fingers and sent a line of hot arousal from his chest to his lip that made his neck tingle. “Oh fuck me!” Geralt gasped out and squeezed Eskel’s thighs.

Eskel gently kissed his bitten lip, starring into Geralt’s eyes from inches away, “Going to.” He moved his other hand to join the first under Geralt’s armor and slid it off his shoulders, tossing it to the side. Geralt’s hands had fallen to his sides as Eskel rucked up his shirt and pulled it over his head. Eskel littered kisses down Geralt’s jawline to his neck, then nibbled the side of his neck before licking the hollow above his collarbone.

Geralt tried to push up into Eskel’s touch as Eskel was undoing the laces of his leathers but he didn’t have any leverage to properly raise his hips. Eskel paused what he was doing for a moment to cup him and press his palm against the stiffness hiding behind the leather. That pulled a needy moan from Geralt and Eskel kept a firm pressure, rubbing his palm up and down. Geralt placed his hand over Eskel’s trying to guide the pressure but Eskel leaned back locking eyes with him before instead guiding Geralt’s hand to touch his own bare cock now straining out from his lap. Geralt’s eyes went wide as Eskel returned his own hand to palm him again rubbing firmly at the front of his leathers. His hand stayed still barely touching Eskel’s cock for a few heartbeats. It felt fiery to the touch, and velvety smooth. Eskel’s eyes remained locked on Geralt’s as he began to slightly thrust into his touch.

“Want to see you face while you stroke me,” Eskel said his voice low and husky.

Geralt worked to control his breathing, worked to ignore the throb behind his balls. He couldn’t break eye contact with Eskel as he experimentally pulled his hand up the length and saw Eskel shudder. He wrapped his hand all the way around Eskel’s shaft and brought it back down, then up again.

“S’good.” Eskel’s voice sounded rough and that spurred Geralt on. He tried to keep a slow steady rhythm. Eskel felt thick in his hand and hard, he wondered how he was ever going to manage something so much bigger than a few fingers.

Eskel went back to working open his laces. It took him longer than he would have liked as distracted as he was by Geralt’s hand. By the time he was done he was leaking precum from his tip. He stilled Geralt’s hand and pulled away, scooting down the bed a few feet. He grabbed Geralt behind the knees and pulled him down he bed after him.

“Lift.” Eskel ordered, and Geralt’s hips went skyward. Eskel removed his leathers and small clothes before spreading Geralt’s legs back on either side of himself. Geralt’s heart was running away in his chest. He was naked and spread in front of Eskel again and all he could think of was last night, only this time Eskel was naked too.

Eskel leaned over him, his whole body covering Geralt as he reached for something on the bedside table. “Breathe,” Eskel reminded him, pausing to kiss first his ear then his mouth, as he returned to his original position. Eskel had vial of colorless viscous liquid which he uncorked. Geralt let out the breath he had forgotten he was holding. Eskel dribbled a tiny line of the cold liquid from the base of Geralt’s cock to the tip and Geralt shivered.

“Where’d that come from?” Geralt wondered aloud.

“The herbalist. It’s a special blend, very slippery and long lasting. Good for lubricating gears,” Eskel used his fingers to draw the liquid around the backside of Geralt’s cock before wrapping his hand around it, “and other activities.”

The liquid warmed quickly under Eskel’s hand as he stroked Geralt. When Geralt was feeling the heat rise in his groin and his balls tighten he felt Eskel’s slick hand slide down to rest around his sack. His breath hitched. He felt his face get warmer. Eskel carefully held his balls out of the way while he dribbled more cold liquid behind them. Geralt felt his entrance tighten sharply against the cold and he grunted.

“S’okay,” Eskel told him as his slick hand let his sack settle back into place and returned to leisurely stroking his cock.

“Fuck Eskel. I don’t know,” Geralt thrust his hips, feeling his ass cheeks slide together as the liquid warmed.

Eskel took both of Geralt’s hands and pinned them above his head, holding them in place with one of his own as he stretched out over him. He whispered, “You can close your eyes now, Geralt.”

Geralt’s eyes fluttered closed and Eskel pressed his lips to them. First one then the other. Eskel let his hand wander down past Geralt’s tight balls stroking the firm patch of skin behind them before caressing his tight bud. Eskel listened to Geralt’s erratic breathing as he explored his mouth with his own, slowly, devilishly.

Eskel kept kissing him the entire time he stroked back and forth over Geralt’s tight entrance, circling, pressing, releasing, teasing. He drug his blunt fingertip over the rim just to hear Geralt keen.

“Please Eskel.” Geralt pleaded.

Eskel let his finger sink home. Geralt’s breathing choked up for a moment and then he relaxed into it. His ass clenched around Eskel as Eskel continued to tease, in and out little bits, pressing deeper with each pass. Then one finger became two, and two became three. Eskel listened and each time Geralt’s breathing became too erratic he slowed and dribbled more of the herbalist’s liquid.

When Eskel withdrew his fingers to lift Geralt’s hips his stretched hole felt empty, like it was trying to close on the air, and Geralt groaned loudly. Eskel sat back on his heels and brought Geralt’s ass to rest on his thighs. He quickly coated his own cock in a layer of liquid before placing the wide head at Geralt’s slowly shrinking furl. Geralt’s eyes shot open, “Eskel!” he exclaimed urgently, “I don’t think I can take that,” feeling his softened rim tighten at the thought. He tried to reach out to grab Eskel but Eskel caught his wrists, one in each hand, and brought them up to either side of his head. Having Eskel leaned over him again like that only increased the pressure his cock head placed against Geralt’s hole.

Eskel’s eyes radiated calm as he looked into Geralt’s, “S’alright,” Eskel kissed him softly, “You can take me.” Another soft, slow kiss, “Just breathe.”

Geralt could feel the insistent pressure of Eskel’s cock against his rim. There was no escaping it, if he moved his hips it would just increase the pressure and his arms were trapped in Eskel’s firm grip. Everything was so slick it felt like it was only a matter of time before he was torn apart.

“Trust me, breathe.” Eskel kept kissing him soft and slow. When he felt Geralt take a deep breath he moved his hips just a little.

Geralt cried out into Eskel’s mouth and Eskel swallowed it with his kiss. Geralt’s world narrowed down to the point where he and Eskel met. He felt incredibly stretched and his hole clenched on Eskel’s thickness. Each time his ass tried to close tightly on Eskel’s cock it sent a shudder up Geralt’s spine.

Eskel stayed still. He hips wanted to move of their own accord but he would not let them. He controlled his breathing, deep and steady. He had Geralt pinned below in the most vulnerable way and he needed to be careful. Eskel rubbed his thumbs softly against Geralt’s wrists where he was holding them down, and continued to place gentle kisses on his lips. Waiting as Geralt gulped air and his body shivered underneath him. Eskel listened to Geralt’s heart rate, pounding in his chest and when after a minute it was tripping along at a less alarming rate he moved his hips a little again, allowing a tiny fraction more of himself to slide in. Geralt groaned deeply but his earlier panic didn’t return. Eskel smiled into his kisses, Geralt was growing used the idea of Eskel taking him.

Geralt felt each small rocking motion of Eskel’s hips. Each bump and ridge of Eskel’s cock and it slid slowly past his taught rim. But mostly he felt full. Incredibly, overwhelming _full_. With every small slide of Eskel’s hips the sensation grew stronger even though he thought each time it couldn’t possibly. His cock was flagging, but his balls ached with a deep fullness of needing release, and that pressure was building behind them again.

“Eskel…” he moaned in between breaths.

Eskel finally sank home with one final push. _FUCK_. Geralt was tight and hot and all his. Eskel moved to nibble Geralt’s ear.

“M’gonna touch you in ways you didn’t know you could be touched.” Eskel whispered to him.

Geralt moaned. His ass tried to hold onto Eskel involuntarily as Eskel pulled back an inch to slide home again.

“M’gonna touch places _no..._ ” inch withdrawal, “ _one…_ ” slide home, “ _but..._ ” inch withdrawal “ _me…_ ” drive home, “ _touches._ ”

“OH Gods!” Geralt shouted.

This, this felt so right. Geralt could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Everything felt so good. The pressure building in his belly, the softness of Eskel’s thumbs on his wrists. The hardness of his hands holding them there. The thick slide of Eskel’s cock in and out of his most private places. Eskel’s rough voice in his ear, his lips kissing the lobe, that silky notch. Geralt didn’t know how long he floated there as Eskel rocked in and out of him. His vision was white and the rushing in his ears made the world silent. He felt Eskel tense above him, then he felt a hot slickness deep inside himself, and then he was cumming.

Geralt was gasping for air, he couldn’t breathe, his lungs weren’t obeying. He realized his arms were no longer pinned. Eskel had one arm behind him cradling his neck and the other hand was stroking him through his release. His eyes were wet again.

Geralt felt Eskel pull out leaving him empty and he shuddered. Eskel’s hand left his oversensitive cock and stroked his hipbone lightly instead. He felt Eskel’s soft lips on his face, kissing his eyes and the wetness there. Geralt’s shuddered. In time his breath settled and he felt safe.

He didn’t even protest when he felt Eskel pull away and leave the bed. Eskel returned shortly with a warm cloth to wipe Geralt’s face, neck, then chest. Next he cleaned Geralt’s cum from his abdomen, swirled the cloth around his softened cock. Geralt laid there eyes closed, breathing slowly, and let Eskel work. Eskel left the bed and rinsed the cloth, returning with it warm once again. He knelt and began to wash Geralt’s balls gently before lifting Geralt’s knee and tipping it over his other leg.

“Turn.” Eskel said pushing on the knee and Geralt turned over easily.

Eskel pushed the knee up to the side exposing Geralt’s still winking furl. Geralt whimpered as he felt Eskel place the warm cloth there and meticulously clean him. Eskel then pealed the covers back and got into the bed.

“Come here.”

Geralt worked his way over to lay next to Eskel. Eskel draped Geralt over himself, pulling Geralt’s knee to rest between his legs, setting Geralt’s head on his shoulder, and draping his arm over his own chest. Eskel pressed a kiss to Geralt’s forehead and pulled the covers over them.

“Sleep.” Eskel said and closed his eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I felt Geralt was owed a bit of an explanation for why it was so good haha, cause Eskel knew more in my head.  
> Also Eskel may be a bit possessive but only in bed


	5. Interlude in Novigrad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut. Really. Just the boys getting comfortable with each other before they have to say goodbye. So lots of smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta so mistakes are my own.
> 
> I am really thrilled people are enjoying this story! I am incredibly grateful for the Kudos and comments. 
> 
> I originally had pegged this at 9 chapters but it is looking more like 11 right now and I am aiming for at least a chapter every week. I do have the full story mapped out but am writing it as I go.

The sleep was deep and restful. Geralt woke before Eskel early in the morning, still draped across him, nestled under the blanket. Eskel’s deep even breathing rumbled quietly through his chest underneath Geralt. His face was serene, without any tension in it even the scars running the length of the right side seemed less prominent, and his lips parted just at the small notch created where one scar bisected his upper lip.

Geralt splayed his fingers across Eskel’s firm chest lightly tapping out the rhythm of Eskel’s own heartbeat as he listened to it. Replaying the events of the last few days over in his head he tried reconcile what had been with what was now. He had been friends with Eskel for more than an average lifetime. Fought beside him, ate beside him, mourned beside him. Now he was something more. Eskel said nothing was lost, only gained. He hoped deep inside that remained true. The events of the last two nights seemed like a impossibly long dream. If it weren’t for the slight ache in his ass and the witcher lying under him Geralt might have been fooled.

Reaching up with his hand to explore the scars on Eskel’s face Geralt was struck by how at ease Eskel looked. The process of his body relinquishing itself to Eskel last night had been almost earth-shattering for Geralt. He woke feeling different somehow, and he was sure he would never be the same again. Eskel on the other hand looked content as he slept. He didn’t look any different to Geralt.

Geralt’s fingers explored the jagged lines drawn down Eskel’s face much more in depth than he had last time. He felt each furrow, where the skin was tight and smooth like polished leather. He lifted himself up on his elbow so that he could looked closely at Eskel’s face, being careful not to disturb him as he did so. He noted how lucky Eskel had really been not to lose his eye. The scars split his eyebrow and continued below on his cheekbone. Geralt stroked his thumb over the scars on Eskel’s cheek, working his way down towards his lips. Massaging tenderly as he went. He loved the way the notch tugged Eskel’s upper lip up on the right side, though he doubted Eskel would believe him if he said so. He lightly thumbed that delicate scarred section of lip he enjoyed the silky feel of so much. Eskel turned his face towards him. His eyes remained closed but Geralt could tell by the change his is breathing that he’d woken him. Geralt stilled his touch but didn’t remove his hand yet, he didn’t want to upset Eskel, he knew he could be sensitive about his face. He was genuinely enamored by the look and feel of it though.

“Feels’good.” Eskel’s words were slurred together like he’d been drinking but it was only his habit of mumbling combined with his grogginess. Eskel hadn’t opened his eyes still.

Geralt was taken aback by the statement, and the fact that Eskel was ever so slightly pressing up into his touch. He ran his thumb over Eskel’s smooth lips and back to the scar. Then he explored over them again, gently massaging as he went. They were like a lightning strike spreading from his hairline to his chin Geralt decided. 

“You like this huh?” Geralt asked, still surprised.

“MmHmm, s’tight and achy sometimes,” Eskel sighed, “b’sides people are afraid to look at them, but you’ve never been.”

“I like them, you wouldn’t be you without them.”

“S’why I like you, you take me as I am.” Eskel smiled as he opened his eyes and stretched out. One scratched hand through Geralt’s hair and he rested the other one his stomach.

Lips slowly merged as Geralt tested out kissing Eskel the way Eskel typically kissed him. It was so different from the way Geralt normally kissed his previous lovers, those had always been rough, vigorous, hurried or at best fast and playful. Eskel seemed to prefer languid leisurely explorations. His kisses as laid-back as he was. Eskel hummed against Geralt’s mouth pleasantly which he took as an indication that he was doing things right.

Eskel’s body rose up almost imperceptibly under Geralt’s hand as it roamed down his neck to his chest. Seeking out and touching every scar it could find. Warm moist lips soon followed its trail, while the hand departed lower. Eskel’s breathing remained stable but Geralt could hear his heartbeat speed up and there was a peculiar salty smell in the air which he now recognized as not his own arousal but Eskel’s.

Geralt’s hand grazed lightly over Eskel’s swollen cock and he lifted his hips into it. “MmHmm,” Eskel murmured. Geralt tried to control the warmth in his face that was rapidly spreading to his chest as he allowed his fingers to survey it from head to base. Fingers finally circled around the girth at the bottom to squeeze with just enough pressure. Shimmying down the bed on his side Geralt propped himself up on his elbow again allowing himself better reach. He continued his lackadaisical strokes using his thumb and forefinger to search out and find sensitive areas that made Eskel twitch.

Eskel remained mostly quiet, smiling as he watched Geralt work him. Occasionally he whispered encouraging praise to Geralt when something felt particularly good. The hand he had rested on his stomach traveled down to tease at his own balls. He fondled them rolling them gently in his own hand while Geralt stoked him. He could see himself leaking onto his abdomen, feel the small wetness it left there. 

When Geralt bent his head over Eskel and flicked his tongue out to taste it, barely touching the crown of his cock with the lick, Eskel screwed his eyes shut and tugged rather hard on his sac. Because, fuck that was a sight he wanted to remember forever, but he wasn’t ready for this to end just yet. Eskel let out an shuddering breath, and reopened his eyes to look down at his lover.

Head leaned over Eskel’s waist, hand still lazily stroking him, Geralt had a look of slight disbelief on his face. Like he couldn’t believe what he’d done.“That was really, really, hot,” Eskel whispered his voice sounding even more ragged to his ears than he thought it would. He was so turned on. He gave himself another tug to slow things down.

“Yea?” Geralt turned his head towards Eskel a tiny bit to look up at his face. Geralt’s eyes were glassy and blown with desire. Seeing that just made the fire rage hotter for Eskel. Knowing that Geralt was so aroused by touching him made his thighs and groin ache. He thrust up into Geralt’s grip in response.

“So amazing to see.” Voice still ragged but regaining his full control Eskel reached out with his other hand to touch Geralt’s lip with one finger.

Geralt lowered his head back to Eskel’s cock and proceeded to kiss it. Eskel propped his elbows behind himself so he could lean up comfortably and watch as Geralt placed chaste kisses from just below the head to the base and back up before kissing the crown. Then he licked at that drooling line of precum again before taking the whole head in his mouth stretching his lips around it. Eskel had to work hard to maintain his control as the warmth of Geralt’s mouth engulfed him. He no longer had a hand on his sac, no physical way to slow himself down, so he measured his breathing and reminded himself that he couldn’t thrust blindly into that heat.

Geralt’s tongue played around his wide head. Licking, dipping at his slit, tasting him there.

“Geralt…”

Then it moved on, Geralt lowered his mouth another inch down Eskel’s shaft, his head bumping up against the roof of Geralt’s mouth as Geralt’s tongue licked frenetically along the underside of his cock. It was such a sight to see- Geralt laving on his cock, wanting to pleasure him- and the desire to release so immense. He was going to ride that desire as long as he could, hold out until he couldn’t hold out any more, before he let the wave wash over him.

The hand on the base of his cock slid up and down in time with Geralt’s mouth. Eskel was wide and Geralt was not used to having something in his mouth but he kept at it. Eskel was leaking in his mouth and the taste was weird, not bad, just different. He tasted salty like Geralt expected but also earthy, like a forest smells after a hard rain. Geralt found he liked it only because it was Eskel’s taste and it aroused him, which was odd. If he had drank a potion with that flavor he would have called it over salted and bitter.

Over and over again Geralt laved up and sunk down on Eskel’s cock. He wanted to take it all, to sink down on it too the root and see Eskel gasp. When he attempted to lower himself all the way though he felt Eskel’s thickness pressing at the back of his throat and he thought he would choke. Geralt tried to will his reflexes to calm and sink past it but his body refused. He came up coughing.

“Don’t rush yourself,” Eskel said huskily, “you’ll have lots of time to learn that.”

Geralt felt hot, how could Eskel speak in sentences when they were doing things like this? Someday Geralt would make him lose his control he vowed, make him moan and grunt like a wanton whore. Like he did to Geralt.

At the moment all he could do was resume sliding his mouth up and down Eskel’s cock. Every time he came to the top he would dip his tongue into the slit quickly to taste him before moving down again. And every time he did he detected a slight hitch in Eskel’s breathing. Ah, he likes that. On the next trip up he dipped his tongue, followed by two quick licks right there, and Eskel’s pulled his bottom lip into his mouth. Geralt continued this for several more passes and soon Eskel was biting into that lip.

“Geralt…” Eskel sounded strained, “if you keep doin’ that…”

Geralt looked Eskel right in the eyes and did it again, his white hair falling into the side of his vision. Instead of taking Eskel’s cock back into his mouth though he sucked and licked only the head. Dipping in and then licking rapidly before repeating it. Eskel’s face tightened up and Geralt suddenly felt warm sticky cum flooding his mouth. Eskel was breathing heavily, face holding that tight expression. As his mouth filled up Geralt felt a small panic rising inside himself. He closed his eyes to try and calm it. He didn’t know what to do now. He heard a small groan from Eskel and felt the bed jostle as he let himself fall back onto it. Geralt pulled himself off of Eskel carefully before emptying his mouth on the bed sheet. 

“Melitele!” Geralt grumped, some of his arousal dampened by his panic at what to do.

Eskel laughed lazily, “I tried to warn you.” He hauled Geralt up for a full open mouthed kiss before Geralt had a chance to run away in shame to clean his mouth. “Mmm, you taste good, like me.”

“You’re weird.” Geralt said not sure how to respond to Eskel.

“M’not weird Geralt, I’m just shameless. I know what I like, ‘n I love the way your mouth tastes after its been on my cock.” Eskel breathed against his face, “now c’mere so I can take care of you.”

Of course Eskel had no shame about what he liked. He was reasonable about everything. Geralt curled in on his side and let Eskel hold him. Eskel lovingly caressed the side of his face, thumbing the corner of his mouth as he kissed him. Geralt let go of his anxiety and relaxed into Eskel’s embrace. He let Eskel hold him close and wrap his arm around his neck holding him as Eskel licked and kissed at his mouth. He allowed his body to respond to Eskel’s touches as they traveled down to his hip and then in towards his groin to grip him. Geralt sighed into Eskel’s mouth as he felt his tight furl quake at the memory of last night as Eskel’s hand stroked him. Eskel started slow with a steady glorious pressure.

“You looked so good with your head between my legs,” Eskel whispered hotly against his mouth.

Geralt moaned in response to the image, he wished he could have seen himself.

“Did you like it?” Eskel asked.

“Uungh,” Geralt panted, “yea. Wanted to please you.”

Eskel sped his strokes, barely increasing the pressure. “You did please me.”

“Eskel…”

“It s’good, Geralt,” Eskel purred, “so good.” He ran his thumb up under the head of Geralt’s cock.

“Gods, Eskel!”

“So amazing,” Eskel was talking right up next to his mouth, “that I came in here.” He kissed Geralt parting his lips with his tongue and Geralt groaned into Eskel’s mouth. Geralt felt his whole body get hot with the thought of it, feeling the shame ebb back in. His heart rate and breathing changing with it. Then Eskel bit his lip and kissed it breaking the feeling off harshly. “Next time,” Eskel continued in that sex-rough demanding voice of his, “I don’t want you to get scared when it happens.”

Gods Geralt was close. Listening to Eskel talk was driving him into that abyss. The feeling of his own shame and Eskel’s absolution of it. His arousal growing and tingling heat that was pooling in his thighs and his lower belly. “Es… Fuck.” Geralt buried his head in Eskel’s neck inhaling his scent deeply.

“Next time I cum in your mouth I want you to swallow me down.” Eskel ordered quietly into Geralt’s ear.

“FUCK Eskel,” Geralt cried out as he spilled all over Eskel’s hand.

Eskel loosened his grip and stoked Geralt through his orgasm until he was shaking and oversensitive. Then he wiped his hand on the sheet next to the mess Geralt had left earlier and pulled Geralt’s leg over him to bring him as close as possible. Eskel ran a hand up his back soothing him down from his high.

Some time later when he had regained control of all of his faculties Geralt shoved lightly at Eskel’s chest and falsely protested, “You are gonna kill me.”

Eskel laughed back at him and kissed him. “We need a bath, and someone needs to change the sheets now.”

  


Geralt and Eskel both went down and ate breakfast in the main hall of the Chameleon. They asked Thomas if someone could bring up some fresh bathwater and a change of linens. It didn’t matter if it was cold, they told him, they could heat it themselves. They went out back to relieve themselves and Geralt grabbed his wash off of the line. 

Back inside Eskel shaved while Geralt heated the tub with igni. They bathed and dressed, managed to keep their hands to themselves. Geralt noticed the linens had been changed by the staff rather than left for them to do it themselves. He wondered if that would cause a problem. Northerners weren’t the most tolerant. He mentioned it to Eskel because it bothered him.

Eskel replied, “First, you’re Dandelion’s best friend, so no I don’t think Thomas would tolerate that kind of banter. And second, in any inn that welcomes a witcher they already think of us as freaks, another abnormal habit isn’t going to deter them from our money.”

“Harsh,” Geralt responded, but as he mulled it over he reasoned that Eskel was probably right. On both counts.

“But true,” Eskel tipped his head to the side.

Geralt noted Eskel didn’t seem to be bothered by the idea that most inns that would take his coin also viewed him as nothing more than a freak they occasionally had need of.

“I need to restock on some potions and bombs today. I have most of the ingredients, but I need to take the time to brew. It would also be good if I could sell off some of the shite in my bags. Roach is getting overloaded.” Geralt changed the subject.

“Sounds good. Hattori will have my swords done tomorrow morning. I could spend a day brewing, resting, and eating.” Eskel said, “If you want to sell stuff, you can leave your reagents here and I’ll start while your out even.”

“Alright.” Geralt smiled and headed down to fetch his overladen saddle bags from where Roach was stabled nearby. When he returned he sorted out all of his herbs and reagents leaving those for Eskel. Then he took the saddlebags full of miscellaneous junk and some valuable baubles and headed out to find the merchants with the best prices for it.

  


When Geralt returned it was nearly noon. He was significantly richer though. That was the sole reason he bothered to load his bags with all that junk in the first place. He had swung by the barber again and allowed himself to be shaved. He had also done a little shopping. 

Geralt had decided that since he’d traveled with Eskel’s red leather bag on his saddle for this long he was keeping it. It was only fair then that he buy Eskel a new one. The one he’d chosen was more his style of course, to remind Eskel of him, black leather with gray straps and accents, and silver a buckle. Inside it he had placed a copy of a book he had picked up in his travels which he had read many times over already Mystery of Mysteries, a fresh bar of the shaving soap he had smelled on Eskel, and a note:

Eskel,

I am keeping your bag. This one is for you so you will always have a piece of me on the Path. The book is good reading on boring nights and you shave more often than any other witcher I know so you’ll need the soap soon. I have always trusted you and I know I’ll see you soon.

-Geralt

He snuck into Scorpian’s stall and hung the bag around the saddle stored there. He was hoped Eskel wouldn’t find it until he was leaving Novigrad. 

  


Geralt headed back up to their room in the Chameleon and found Eskel deep in concentration assembling dimeritium bombs. A potion was bubbling away over the fireplace. Geralt strode over and ran his fingers through Eskel’s hair.

“You want me to go get us some lunch and bring it up?” Geralt asked.

“Mmm, that’d be a fine idea.”

“Be back in a moment then,” Geralt turned on his heel and headed back down to see what Thomas’ crew had cooked up for lunch.

Geralt returned fifteen minutes later with a whole roasted chicken, two apples, a wedge of cheese, and a pitcher of beer.

“Damn, I should send you to get food more often!” Eskel was eyeballing the feast.

“I may have slipped Thomas some extra coin, plus I think he likes us,” Geralt replied setting the large tray down on the floor in between the bed and the fireplace where Eskel was working. Geralt settled himself cross legged on the floor in behind the tray looking at Eskel, “come eat.”

They dove into the food. Tearing the chicken apart with their fingers, cutting the cheese with Geralt’s knife. They filled and then refilled their tankards from the pitcher of beer. They bit straight into the apples. Before long all that was left was a picked apart chicken carcass and a couple of apple cores. They had decimated the entire tray. Hunger sated, warm, with a roof over their heads, no one currently calling them weavil-arsed freaks. Eskel leaned over the now empty tray and pulled Geralt to him by the back of the neck. He leaned his forehead on Geralt’s. 

“Thank you. That was a lovely lunch.” He smiled a half smile and then leaned back away. “Cat is almost ready to bottle.” He nodded his head towards the fire and simmering brew. “You wanna do that? I will finish up these bombs.”

“Sure,” Geralt rose up and headed to the opposite side of the bed where Eskel had laid out many empty vials.

They spent the remainder of the afternoon working on swallow, white raffard’s, tawny owl, grapeshot bombs, and devil’s puffballs.

  


Geralt and Eskel decided they would go downstairs to eat again for dinner. The vegetable stew wasn’t as glorious as lunch, but it was hot and filling. It came with bread and the beer was good as it always was at the Chameleon which made them content. They watched the evening cabaret show- a slightly scandalous ditty about a witch hunter and a sorceress. A lot had changed since Radovid had died and Nilfgaard had taken over. Much more could be said, and it was no longer considered couth to burn at the stake that which you didn’t understand or didn’t look like you. At least for now.

When they retired to their room Geralt was in a pleasant mood. Thinking change had been for the better for once. Eskel entered behind him, hands on his hips guiding him easily, nudging the door closed with his boot. Eskel continued to guide him forward, walking behind him step for step.

Eskel began to kiss his neck and Geralt leaned back into him and rested his head on Eskel’s shoulder. This was good. This was comfortable. He could get used to having Eskel here like this. Eskel reached in front of him to unbuckle his swords, removing them and leaning them against the foot of the bed. Next he unbuckled Geralt’s armor and peeled it off of his shoulders dropping it the the floor. His kisses turned in to soft bites on Geralt’s neck now that it was more accessible.

Geralt moaned. He reached down to unlace his own leathers and push them down along with his shorts. He stood there leathers around his ankles, caught on his boots. His linen shirt came to the middle of his ass and Eskel’s hands had returned to his hips as he continued to nip and place kisses along Geralt’s neck. Still fully clothed in his armor Eskel rutted subtly up against Geralt’s bare ass. Holding Geralt’s hips in place as he rubbed the front of his leathers against his exposed cheeks. 

“I need to get my damn boots off.” Geralt grunted out.

Eskel let go of his hips. Geralt turned to sit on the bed and deal with his boots. While he was divesting himself of his those and the rest of his leathers Eskel went over to the dresser and stripped off his swords and armor stacking it neatly. He returned to the bed and crawled in retrieving the herbalist’s liquid from the bedside table on the way.

Geralt stood up and turned to face the bed only to see Eskel lifting the blanket and inviting him in. He didn’t hesitate. He crawled in and Eskel drew him over, tugging his leg until Geralt was forced to straddle him. 

Geralt felt his cock jostle for room next to Eskel’s and drew a deep breath in. They felt scorching hot where touched each other, stiff under their velvety skins. Where they rubbed together created sparks on Geralt’s sensitive cock. Eskel grabbed his ass and pulled him forward as he thrust his hips up creating friction between their cocks, before letting his ass slide back. Geralt sucked in another quick breath.

“Gods, that’s good, Eskel.”

Eskel opened the vial of liquid and dribbled it on them. Geralt gasped at the coolness on their heated cocks. Then Eskel’s big hand engulfed them together and the moan that escaped Geralt was obscene. Eskel stoked them together as Geralt fell forward, barely catching himself with his hands on either side of Eskel’s head. Geralt was thrusting into it now. Working his hips into Eskel’s hand, against Eskel’s cock. 

Eskel used his other hand to gather some of the liquid pooled between them on his fingers. When he slid his fingers in between Geralt’s cheeks he heard Geralt’s breathing speed up and his heart rate increase but Geralt didn’t pause his thrusting. And when his finger sought out the tightness of Geralt’s hole Geralt only whimpered. After a few gentle circles Eskel pressed his finger in and Geralt took him, moaning. 

Eskel slowed his strokes over them, he didn’t want to take them over the edge, and concentrated and opening Geralt up. Geralt let him. He relaxed into it. He let Eskel’s fingers find him, press into him, stretch him, coax his body open. He wanted this, Gods he wanted to feel Eskel inside him again. When Eskel had three fingers sliding easily in and out, teasing his rim, Geralt could feel the heat flooding his belly and the pressure behind his cock growing he couldn’t wait anymore.

“I want you inside of me again,” Geralt was bordering on begging, “please.”

“S’ok,” Eskel hushed him, “you can have what you need.” Eskel pulled his fingers from Geralt and urged him up and forward a little bit. His other hand stopped its stroking to press his own cock down behind Geralt’s balls.

There was a low whine in Geralt’s throat as Eskel’s hands lined him up and he felt that thick head come to rest against his loosened entrance.

“Shhh, take it at your own pace.” Eskel’s voice was smooth in his ears. One of Eskel’s hands sat reassuringly on Geralt’s upper thigh, the other held his cock still at Geralt’s hole waiting for Geralt to move. 

Slowly, achingly, Geralt lowered himself. He pressed himself against that impressive girth with a steady pressure until his body swallowed it up.

“Uhnn,” Geralt breathed deeply through it, “Eskel…”

“You look amazing like this.”

“Uhnn,” Geralt inhaled roughly again as slowly impaled himself. When he was sitting flush with Eskel he laid down against Eskel’s chest to let his body adjust to the fullness and catch his breath. Eskel ran his fingers down Geralt’s back, over his ass cheeks, down the backs of his thighs and then back up and over. Helping his body relax.

Eskel whispered in his ear, “Make it good for yourself, Geralt.” He kissed the shell of his ear, his scars tickling there, “pleasure yourself with my body, and it will be good for me too, I promise.” Another gentle kiss.

FUCK. Eskel knew exactly how to talk to him. Geralt leaned himself back gasping at the change of angle. He rocked his hips experimentally.

When he lifted his hips a few inches and then rocked back he saw stars. Gods. That was it. That spot. The place Eskel touched. Only Eskel. He must have cried out because Eskel was reaching out to rub his thighs and soothe him. He lifted again and rocked back on Eskel’s cock letting it rub against him inside. His mouth falling open, he tried to find a rhythm he could sustain. He let his hands intertwine with Eskel’s on his thighs. His engorged cock bounced before him, dripping precum onto Eskel’s stomach untouched. He lifted and rocked thrusting Eskel up against that spot within himself over and over again until his thighs were shaking.

He wanted to say something, to tell Eskel he was going to cum. The pressure built up behind his balls was immense and cock throbbed. His whole body felt flush with heat but there was an icey cold settling in his groin that he knew meant he was beyond holding back. He couldn’t form words though. Only grunts and the most needy moans where making it past his lips.

He cock throbbed hard as he spilled his seed onto Eskel’s abdomen. With each hard throb he could feel his ass tighten down on Eskel. Then he cold feel the slick heat of Eskel emptying into him.

“Sweet Met…” Geralt collapsed forward and Eskel caught him. His ass was still throbbing around Eskel’s cock, and Eskel was disinclined to remove himself at the moment. Eskel captured the corner of Geralt’s mouth in a mellow kiss.

“You,” Eskel murmured against his lips, “are amazing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am loving that as Geralt gets over his hang ups he gets a little more relaxed in bed. Expect more of that as the story goes on.


	6. On the Path Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Eskel have to get back to work. They plan to meet up every so often at pre-arranged destinations on the Path in order to keep in touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta as always.
> 
> No smut in this chapter.
> 
> But Eskel is still awesome.

Hattori had Eskel’s silver sword and other weapons ready to go when they approached his stall the following day. It wasn’t exactly morning still but not quite noon yet either. They were moving slower than usual today for no real reason. Geralt suspect his own slowness was due to not wanting Eskel to depart for parts unknown. It had only been a few days but their trysts had grown especially comforting to him and he was loathe to leave them behind even for a while. He did trust Eskel, and did believe that they’d see each other again soon, but it wouldn’t be soon enough for him.

The leather wrap on the pommel was really something and Eskel was pleased. He was going over his sword with Hattori, happy to have the heft of his favorite back in his hand. Geralt was standing off to the side, a somewhat sour look on his face. He’d been that way since after they had rinsed off this morning. Eskel had tried his best to cheer him up, then to reassure him that they would set up a meeting point to reconnect on the path in a few weeks time. Geralt had agreed to the idea heartily but he still looked annoyed. Eskel wasn’t pleased about splitting up to get back to work either but he had spent a week in Novigrad already. He’d arrived before Geralt and done a few small odd city contracts in those few days. They couldn’t vacation forever though as much as he’d love to rent a bed and spend a month memorizing Geralt’s body as he ploughed him into it every night, practicing with swords and wandering the city during the day. They had to _work_. Eskel sighed heavily to himself and began to pay Hattori.

“Is everything alright Eskel?” Hattori questioned, he did after all seemed pleased with the work.

“Yeah, Geralt is just,” Eskel jerked his head in Geralt’s direction, where he was leaning against the fence around Hattori’s stand brooding, “being Geralt.”

“Ah yes,” Hattori said mildly, “I find he does that often.”

Geralt shifted against the fence, arms crossed in front of his chest waiting for them to finish up. He was so lost in his thoughts his keen hearing didn’t even pick up their conversation.

“Good luck to you both on the Path, come back anytime.”

“We will, thanks Hattori.”

Eskel strode over, “C’mon Wolf, lets go to the merchants and stock up.”

Geralt huffed at the name now. Eskel had always called him Wolf, a friendly endearment, but now he had taken to only using it public. In private, in bed, he called him by his name and Geralt liked it. He followed Eskel to the stalls where they did stock up on everything they thought they might need on the Path for a while, things they thought merchants in smaller villages might not carry. They bought dried fish and berries which they ate as they walked for a quick lunch. The bells tolled noon as they were walking back towards the Chameleon to round up their gear and saddle their horses. It was a late start for sure but it was better than not heading out at all.

In there room they had split up the potions and bombs they had stocked up the day before. Loading their saddlebags with their small arsenal and purchases. Eskel set his on the bed and came up behind Geralt. Pressing his soft dry lips to Geralt’s neck.

“Geralt. We’ve been around a long time.”

Geralt huffed back.

“A few weeks will not change how I feel.” Eskel nuzzled his scarred lip against Geralt’s ear in that way he knew drove Geralt a bit crazy. “In two weeks I will be waiting for you at the inn in Dorian. Trust me, this will work.”

Geralt sighed sadly and leaned his head back onto Eskel’s shoulder, the spikes on the edge of Eskel’s armor catching at his hair, “You don’t understand, I am going to miss you.” Geralt said quietly, it was so hard for him to admit out loud.

“I do understand, I’m gonna miss you too. Gonna wish you were in my arms every night, gonna miss the way you smell after sex, after a bath, after sword practice.” Eskel continued on, “But we have jobs, and we can’t stop working. So we make it work, meet up in between until winter.”

“And when winter comes, you’ll come stay with me at Kaer Morhen?” Geralt’s tone was hopeful.

“When winter comes we will be together, I am not sure if I am ready to face Kaer Morhen yet.” Eskel squeezed him tightly, “Right now just trust me that I will try okay?”

“Okay.”

 

When Geralt was saddling Roach and leading her out of her stall Eskel approached him with the black and gray leather bag.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a gift, wait to open it until your on your way.” Geralt grinned.

Eskel looked around to see if there were any prying eyes about before stepping close to Geralt. He slipped his arm around Geralt’s waist and drew him in close before kissing him sensuously on the lips. He grabbed Geralt’s hand and placed the leather palm of his glove against his own marred cheek.

“Dorian. I mean it,” Eskel demanded before pulling away roughly. He turned without another look and went back into Scorpion’s stall to finish saddling him. He led the stallion out and swung up into his saddle and walked him past Geralt wordlessly. Geralt watched Eskel’s back as he weaved in and out of people in the narrow lane headed towards the main gate. Just before he slipped out of sight Geralt caught him turn his head. His scarred visage searching the lane for a sign of Geralt.

 

Geralt was tired of central Velen, he’d told Eskel he planned to go a bit east before working his way down south. He steered Roach towards Oxenfurt Gate and then rode out of Novigrad. For once he was sad to leave it behind. He’d miss being able to walk amongst the crowd with Eskel and almost blend in. There were enough odd people in Novigrad that most people didn’t give two witchers walking around a second thought unless it was to curse them. Which was fine, he was pretty used to be cursed for being a witcher. He wasn’t used to what he could and couldn’t show in public of his sudden new affection for Eskel though. The loudness, noise, and crowds of Novigrad has eased that. The Chameleon and Thomas’ welcoming of them because he was Dandelion’s close friend and redeemer, had eased that. And now he was leaving it behind.

 

Oxenfurt was no less busy then Novigrad had been, just more restless. The Redanians here held onto their pride and their hatred of the Black Ones a bit more. The air had the taste of anger in it bitter and strong and Geralt decided he did not want to linger long. He checked the board and grabbed a few notices. A missing halfling, a local herbalist’s apprentice it seemed. He would check it out on the way out of town. A plea that women were going missing in the sewers of Oxenfurt. He debated if it was worth looking into that one. He hated to see innocents getting murdered or worse eaten, but Oxenfurt seemed like a hotbed of drama he did not feel inclined to join at the moment. It was a pretty penny though, so he tucked it in his armor as well.

He found the herbalist Otto in a ratty hut off the road to the northeast of Oxenfurt. The boy, Folkert, had been promising he said, gone of to gather shrooms in the forest. The kind they couldn’t cultivate in the garden. Then he never returned. There were rumors of a wolf pack in the forest sure but the boy had gone out many times before without any issue as had Otto himself, what forest didn’t have wolves? Geralt had to concede that was a true point. More to the point, he had struggled hard to make it in the human world, and he was training the boy to do the same to make a place for halfings around men. Otto would pay him just to know the truth even if it was wolves or worse. So he set out to look for the towheaded halfling.

Unfortunately for Otto some men are monsters. The only consolation Geralt could give him was that those monsters were dead now too. It wouldn’t bring back Folkert though.

While he was searching for Folkert he had seen the manse mentioned in the sewer contract and so he returned the following day. Olgierd von Everec was a real ass. Geralt felt from the start that something was off about him. He was blank and emotionless in a way witchers were said to be. But Geralt new that was bullshit, witchers were muted sure, but they could feel and did. They just normally hid it better so people wouldn’t use it against them as much. He was working on that. Olgierd seemed to genuinely not care about life. He wanted revenge for the girl who died in the sewer, but it was just revenge- a business transaction. You have taken mine and I will now take yours. The money was good though and Geralt had winter coming in two months or less so he rolled with it. Sewer monsters were witcher staple, like wynerns, but with a side of drowners and better pay.

 

He was shocked to find Shani lurking in the belly of Oxenfurt with a compliment of dead soldiers. Apparently he was not the only one looking for the beast. They lurked forward together because she was determined and stubborn, while Geralt was equally determined and stubborn about not letting her get herself killed over a sample. The beast had left a trail of bodies in its wake, some Shani’s men, some local women, and some unlucky vagrants that no one had missed.

When he spotted what appeared to be its lair he ordered Shani back and she begrudgingly listened. He lured it out and silver sword flashing dove in. It’s poison was strong despite his resistances and even as he watched as it lay dying on the gross sludge covered floor and heard voices rushing in he felt it taking over. His eyes blinking too slowly, the floor spinning up at him.

 

The floor was still spinning but now Geralt was sure it really was the floor moving and not his mind. It rocked and heaved. Geralt blinked rapidly and took in his surroundings. He was on ship. He hadn’t passed out on a ship. He was in a cell. That was definitely bad.

“Oi, yer awake!”

The man in the other cell next to him was talking loudly to him, and it made his head throb a little even though he was also sure he wasn’t hung over. He had been on a contract, not drinking. He was killing a beast in Oxenfurt.

“Where are we?”

“Middle o’ the ocean, I expect. Not tha’ it matters.”

“Matters to me, I have places to be.” Geralt was positively bitchy now. “How long have we been at sea?”

“Mmm maybe a day? Again not tha’ it matters, ya killed their prince see?” the man waggled his finger at Geralt, “So there’s no goin’ back fer ya.

“Fuck. It was supposed to be a monster, not a cursed man.” Eskel was going to kill him when he missed their rendezvous.

Geralt heard foreign voices talking loudly back and forth in the hold. They were approaching and they were not happy. He had to figure this out fast.

He attempted to reason with them as they shouted at him angrily. To explain that he had not realized it was a cursed man but not speaking Ofieri did him no favors. He was pretty sure he’d just pissed them off worse. Perhaps insulted the prince he’d killed. They roughly shoved a bowl of slop at him and in rough common informed him to eat because he wasn't allowed to arrived dead, yet. They shuffled out still angrily arguing amongst themselves. Probably about what constituted grounds for him to arrive dead after all. Fuck again, that was not promising.

And then the world stood still. The boat stopped on a slant, rocked sideways by a wave that never finished. There wasn’t a sound in the world except for Geralt’s own heartbeat ticking away in his chest. It wasn’t even fast because everything had stopped so suddenly he hadn’t had a chance to figure out if it should be yet or not.

“Hello there, Geralt.”

Geralt whirled around at the sound of a voice in the incredible silence of the suspended world. “Who the hell are you?!” He barked, “and what the fuck is going on here?”

“Geralt, no need to be crass. Don’t you remember me? We met in White Orchard. I helped you find your Yenefer.”

“The mirror merchant.” Geralt ground out, “That does not explain how you got here or what is going on.”

“You can call me Gaunter O’Dimm, and I have a proposition for you Geralt. I have need of your services and you of mine, so it would seem.”

 

 

 _How in all the Hells do I get myself bound up in this shite?_ Geralt thought to himself as he rode south through Benek pushing Roach as fast as he could. It had been eleven, twelve days, probably? Since he’d left Novigrad with Eskel. He was supposed to meet up with him in two more in Dorian and he was far from there. He couldn’t have known the contract in Oxenfurt sewers would go so sour. Not sour completely and totally insane. He never wanted to see Gaunter O’Dimm or anything like him again in his life. He shuddered, he would never quite look at a spoon the same way again.

Roach was working up a lather under the stress and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up the pace forever but he needed to put some distance between himself and that last experience. He needed to be closer to Dorian. He knew deep inside he wouldn’t make it in time, but he hoped he would be able to at least find Eskel’s trail and catch up with him. He needed to see him, feel him, know that the world wasn’t all horrible. Dorian was three days away at least.

Geralt would have slept in the saddle if it weren’t for Roach needing to rest. She was a good horse, calm and normally unshakable, he had to respect her needs. He settled them in a meadow and turned her loose to drink and graze. He didn’t want to sleep because he was tired and it would waste too much time. Instead he meditated for exactly six hours, enough time for her to rest, before they set back out at a less breakneck pace. Really he did make great time, and Roach carried him admirably. Together they made the three and a half day ride in two and a half. She was well spent by the time they rode into Dorian and Geralt knew it. She would need to recover. He searched out the inn and left her to rest at the post outside.

Inside he found that there were still a few drunkards lingering at the tables despited it being near 1 bell in the morning. The inn was not anything to be envious of. It reeked of old beer and newer piss. It was the kind of place that did not insist there were no beds and that he could sleep in the stable because he had puss peepers though. He asked the inn-keep if there was any dinner left to be had and got a gruff laugh in return. Apparently not.

“Listen, I was supposed to meet another man here,” Geralt indicated to his eyes, “like me, a witcher.”

“Aye. He’s got a room for the two of ya. Waited down here until a few bells ago.” The inn-keep looked at Geralt with some annoyance in his eyes. “Then he ordered a bath up and said if you showed to send you up.”

Geralt’s heart leapt up in his throat. Eskel was still here! He had a room for them. The inn-keep wasn’t looking at him like anymore than the usual freak and Geralt wasn’t sure what to do or say.

“Um, that would be good, really good. I am tired. So is my horse, she’s out front do you think you could get her into the stable and get her some grain? We rode hard.” Geralt tried not to sound as relieved and excited as he felt.

The inn-keep snorted, “That’ll cost ya.”

“Of course,” Geralt dug into his coin bag and handed the man several orens, plus one more for good measure. Roach was worth every copper.

The man handed him a key, “Rooms the last door on the left at the end of the hall. Bunk beds, hope your friend doesn’t snore.” He gave a hard look to the malingering drunks before he headed out to get Geralt’s mare settled. He would brook no disturbances in his inn.

Bunk beds explained it a bit more, Geralt thought, as he walked down the hall exhausted to his bones. It was a clever way for Eskel to get them a room together without drawing too much attention. At the end of the hall he paused leaning his forehead against the door and breathing for a moment. He was sorry he was late.

The door opened and he literally fell against Eskel.

“Geralt.” Eskel was wrapping his arms around him, turning him around and closing the door as he leaned against it. Geralt let himself be pulled along.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“You look awful. What happened?” Eskel had a searching look as he held Geralt’s face in his hands and looked him over.

“Really don’t wanna talk about it right now.” Geralt’s mind was done. Done with O’Dimm. Done with Olgierd. “Just wanna feel you.”

“What you need is a hot bath, and a long nap.”Geralt was giving him a needy augmentative look as Eskel stated the facts, “but I can help you with both.” Geralt looked a little relieved. He didn’t want to be denied the comfort of Eskel’s touch right now. Besides he trusted Eskel to take care of him, maybe Eskel was right, maybe he needed something other than sex right now.

Eskel guided him to the tub which sat nearly in the middle of the tiny room, unused from earlier. It was not nearly as large as the tub in the Chameleon had been, more the style you sat in. They would be pushing it to sitting two grown men in it. Geralt stood pliantly as Eskel divested him of all of his armor, pushing him onto the bed to remove his boots. Then Eskel stripped himself down and reached into the water to reheat it with his fingers. Geralt blanked out studying Eskel as he used his signs to heat the water. He’d always been so much better at signs than the rest of them. They came so easily to him and he had such fine control over them. Before he knew it Eskel was pulling him up again. Urging him to climb into the tub after him.

Geralt followed Eskel in and the water was exquisite. Hot on his sore aching muscles. He sank down to sit, knees drawn up to his chest, Eskel’s legs on either side of him and he leaned back against that strong chest. Eskel guided his head into the water and dipped his hair before working the soap into it massaging as he went. Then he guided Geralt back down to rinse it. Eskel tipped Geralt’s head to rest in the cradle of his shoulder and neck, before beginning to wash him. First his chest and arms were rubbed with soap and lathered up. Then Eskel brought a rag up and squeezed the warm water from it to rinse him off. Then Eskel worked the rag into each scar on Geralt’s chest and arms, massaging them firmly to work out the stress.

“Forward.” Eskel leaned forward against Geralt tipping him, but he had a hand around his waist so that he didn’t topple in his haze. Geralt grasped the edge of the tub in front of him to steady himself and Eskel let go of his waist bring both hands to his back to continue soaping him there. It was the same process, lather, rinse with water from the rag, then massage deeply. Eskel draped the rag over the edge and adjusted as far back in the tub as he could.

“Get up on your knees, Geralt.”

Geralt groaned. Eskel had said he didn’t need sex, he was confused, but he tried to comply anyway. It wasn’t easy to pull his feet around under him in the small space but he did. Then he rose up on his knees and leaned forward on the front edge of the tub with his forearms. Pushing his feet back until he felt the tub wall on either side of Eskel’s hips he lowered his back and laid his head on his arms giving Eskel all the access he could.

And Eskel washed him. Gently he soaped up Geralt’s thighs and ass. Taking his time he lathered the rag up and ran it over Geralt’s soft cock, around his sack, and gently between his cheeks. Geralt’s cock gave a halfhearted twitch at the contact but Eskel knew he was too exhausted mentally and moved on to rinsing him.

Eskel rested his chin on Geralt’s right ass cheek. He gripped Geralt’s calves, squeezing the tension out of them.

“S’bed time. Let’s get you dry.”

They climbed out of the tub, Geralt still dazed from the hot water, washing, and massage. He felt a little drunk on Eskel’s touches and he was one hundred percent okay with that right now. Eskel dried him off head to toe with a clean linen towel before turning it on himself and doing the same. The covers on the bottom bunk had been drawn back already and Geralt crawled in falling face down onto the pillow. Eskel followed him and before he could turn over Eskel had draped his body halfway over Geralt’s. His leg settling between the backs of Geralt’s thighs, his chest against Geralt’s back, his arm reaching over to find Geralt’s hand and curl around it. Eskel buried his head in the back of Geralt’s neck at the base and kissed him there.

“Missed you. Whatever happened I’ve got you now.”

That was all Geralt needed to know. He slept with Eskel like a blanket, warm and comfortable on his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smut next chapter. 
> 
> This chapter is sort of an exploration of how they intend to make this work. On a daily, weekly, monthly, not winter basis. They have to work and eat. The witcher equivalent of paying the bills.


	7. Swords and Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sunlight barely crept in through the small greasy window. The tiny room lit by the dull light. Geralt felt wholly refreshed though. Eskel had been right, he hadn’t needed what he thought. He hadn’t needed a quick dirty lay like he’d always sought after rough times. He had needed to be touched, held, to feel clean, to feel… loved. Geralt had known he needed Eskel and Eskel had known what he needed and given it freely. Now he felt at ease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no beta so all mistakes are my own
> 
> This chapter is extra NSFW. The boys are exploring some of their kinks, some might be surprising some might not. Also there are feels in here beware. We are more than halfway done now.

The sunlight barely crept in through the small greasy window. The tiny room lit by the dull light. Geralt felt wholly refreshed though. Eskel had been right, he hadn’t needed what he thought. He hadn’t needed a quick dirty lay like he’d always sought after rough times. He had needed to be touched, held, to feel clean, to feel… loved. Geralt had known he needed Eskel and Eskel had known what he needed and given it freely. Now he felt at ease.

Over breakfast Geralt had relayed the tale of O’Dimm and Olgierd, of the choices he’d made, of how he felt. And he felt better telling Eskel. They restocked what they needed to in Dorian at the local merchant. The notice board held a few minor contracts which they divvied up between themselves. Geralt took the alghoul, while Eskel headed off to clear out a nekker nest. In the afternoon they returned to town to collect their rewards and have dinner at the inn.

Dinner left much to be desired, but it was food and it was not expensive. They would be heading their separate ways again in the morning so they didn’t waste time retiring up to their room. This time Eskel gave Geralt everything he asked for, until he couldn’t ask for any more.

 

They met up twice again before fall really set in. It became a regular rhythm. A week or so apart on contracts on separate sides of the kingdom, then meet in the middle before moving along. Then Eskel took a long contract down Brugge. He told Geralt he thought it would take him three weeks and then Geralt could meet him there. Geralt took contracts in Maribor and along the way, but it felt like forever.

Geralt could smell fall in the air, even this far south. It was a warm pleasant fall here but he knew that far up north in Kaedwen and around the Blue Mountains it promised cool days, and frost covered mornings. Geralt knew it was very near time to head north for the winter. He wanted Eskel to come with him. He wasn’t sure if he would though, bitter as the memories of Vesemir’s death still were in his mouth.

The golden and red leaves dripped from the trees that lined the path Roach carried him down as he rolled this over in his mind. Wondering how he could explain to Eskel his desire to have him close all winter, that he would comfort Eskel too. As he approached the bridge over the river Trava around midday a sense of trepidation began to build inside of him. He was eager to see Eskel again after so many weeks apart, eager to feel his skin, hear his voice. Yet he knew winter was fast approaching and decisions needed to be made. Things he didn’t want to talk to Eskel about out loud just yet.

An hour later as Roach’s hooves clopped into the streets of the city of Brugge Geralt had put those worries behind him in favor of new ones. How to locate his lover in this town? Start at the inn again perhaps?

When Geralt tied Roach outside The Last Cask on the Left and went inside to inquire though, he found that Eskel wasn’t there with a room already rented as in the past. Lokei the inn-keep said he had dealt with a witcher with brown hair and terrible scars down his face a few times in the recent weeks- to sell him foodstuffs mostly. The witcher had not rented a room there though, and Lokei did not know where the marred witcher was staying.

Geralt bought a beer and drank it anyway. Thirsty after riding half the day, he could certainly use a quick break before he left to hunt Eskel down. Obviously Eskel was in town, just not staying at this inn, and there didn’t seem to be a second inn in town. It was possible the contract giver had offered him a place in one of their out buildings and Eskel being thrifty had taken advantage of it. Alternatively he could be roughing it. Eskel hadn’t even mentioned what kind of contract he came down here for though so Geralt was at a loss for where to go from here at the moment.

Finishing up his beer and thanking the inn-keep he headed back out to Roach. He could always check with the town blacksmith next. Eskel would likely have stopped there for items and repairs on a contract this long. He rode past the notice board. Looking it over it did not appear to have anything terribly interesting posted. He followed the faint pinging sound of a blacksmith’s hammer on an anvil until, several streets over and down he located what he was looking for. He approached the smith and looked at his wares while asking about a brown haired man with eyes like his. The smith reported that in fact the man had just been by the day before to get some supplies.

Geralt thanked the man and took a deep breath, letting his senses fall deep. He searched for Eskel’s scent among the others in the crowded area and it took only a moment for the distinct smell of his shave soap to stand out. Geralt followed the smell of bourbon and vetiver, mingled with a hint of well worked witcher. He laughed to himself. Eskel could use a bath. Following the day old trail through town and out into the outskirts where it became even clearer a smile began to work its way onto Geralt’s lips. He continued to follow it up into the foothills, where he could hear a small tributary running. Weaving his way among the trees he eventually came in sight of a small camp, and here Eskel’s smell was everywhere. He stilled Roach and looked around. A tent was set up next to a large oak with branches hanging low and horizontal over the area. A fire ring was rigged up with a spit over it for roasting meat or hanging a pot from. The trees opened up and led down to the large mountain stream tumbling by, and the sun lit everything up that the trees hadn’t blanketed. Where the trees had, the ground was covered by a carpet of newly fallen red, gold, brown, and light green leaves.

Geralt dismounted and pulled the bags and saddle from Roach before turning her loose to graze. He made himself at home in the camp settling his things about the area where he wanted them. Then grinning at himself at the thought that Eskel had needed a bath, he decided he probably did too, and he best do it before evening came and cooled things off too much. He stripped down and piled his clothes next to the large oak. Striding naked to the stream he hissed at the cold water as he waded in. He slowed his heart down so he wouldn’t get hypothermic and set about washing himself thoroughly. He washed his hair and body before paying special attention to those areas he knew Eskel would spend so much time on later.

Geralt was so intent on his task, and maybe a little distracted by thinking about what Eskel might do to the places he was cleaning, that he didn’t notice Eskel had returned to camp. Eskel moved quietly to shuck his armor and slide into the water behind Geralt. Only when he felt the water moving around him did Geralt spin around to see Eskel naked grinning lopsidedly at him.

“You found me.” There was something akin to pride in Eskel’s voice.

“Mmmhmm,” Geralt put his arms around Eskel’s neck, “I am a witcher, tracking is part of what I do.”

Eskel’s hands found Geralt’s waist and pulled him in close in the cold water just as Eskel’s mouth closed over his. Eskel’s kiss was a little more rough and possessive that usual, his grip a little tight on Geralt’s hip bones. Eskel wanted to explore the edges of his mouth but was foiled by the bristly beard there. At least two weeks growth, probably the full three since they’d last met.

“You didn’t shave.”

Geralt was startled by the statement. “Oh,” _shit_ , “um, yea. I guess I forgot to stop at a barber. I was in a hurry to see you.”

“You go to a barber every time?” Eskel raised his eyebrows.

“Well, I don’t actually own a razor myself.” Geralt rubbed his hand unconsciously on his beard. “I only do it because you like it.” He admitted.

Heat was rising in Eskel’s chest, he brought his mouth down to the side of Geralt’s neck and nuzzled there before kissing him and gently sucking. “Hmmm.”

“I mean I don’t really like letting people shave me, sharp blade at my throat and all.” It felt like a terrible admission that he had been doing something he didn’t like just for Eskel’s sake.

Eskel’s mouth moved back up to his ear and he whispered, “and if I were to offer to shave you? Would you trust me with it?” He pulled back to look Geralt earnestly in the eyes, gauging Geralt’s reaction to his little fantasy.

Geralt’s adams apple worked up and down in his throat and he desperately fought the urge to close his eyes against Eskel’s intense stare. He fought alongside Eskel with swords plenty, why would a razor be different. Eskel wouldn’t hurt him.

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t you go dry off in camp, I’ll finish washing and be there in a moment.”

 

Eskel’s fingers were deft as they swirled the soap through Geralt’s beard. It felt amazingly good. Fuck Geralt couldn’t believe he had gotten himself talked into this. He wasn’t sure what was worse the fact that he was getting shaved, which he hated- or the fact that it was being done by Eskel in a way that was very nearly sexual. Because he wasn’t hating that, but the play between the two was a bit confusing.

They had dried and dressed in plain trousers and linen shirts for the evening. Eskel had pulled out his shaving kit and heated a bowl of water with igni. Then he had instructed Geralt to sit cross-legged on the bedroll inside the tent. Once Geralt was seated, Eskel had joined him by sitting in his lap. Literally. Facing Geralt, Eskel sat in his lap and wrapped his legs around behind him, locking his ankles behind Geralt’s ass to create brace for himself and Geralt. Seated like this Geralt could feel Eskel’s arousal through the rough linen trousers as it was pressed directly up against his own, and every move Eskel made to lean over to the shaving kit accentuated it. Eskel leaned in kissing him.

“Thank you.” Geralt melted a little at those words.

By the time Eskel had dampened his beard and lathered the soap in Geralt was aching and hard. His breath was deep and struggling.

Eskel rinsed his fingers in the bowl and drew the razor through the water before bringing it to rest on Geralt’s cheek. With just the right pressure he brought it down along the side of Geralt’s face to reveal the clean skin beneath. Both men let out the breath they’d been unconsciously holding. He leaned to the side swishing the razor in the bowl of water. The beard and soap fell away leaving only a gleaming sharp blade again. The leaning placed a delicious pressure on their groins and a small groan escaped Geralt’s lips. This was so, so, much better than Eskel had imagined. He returned to his task.

Small scrapes against Geralt’s skin continued and he eventually closed his eyes and just listened to Eskel’s movements as he brought the razor over his skin, then rinsed it in the bowl, then returned to the next place. Eskel’s hands guided his head, moving it as he needed to, tilting it up so he could draw the blade up his neck to his jawline.

Geralt’s breath had become very heavy by the time he heard Eskel wipe the razor clean and flip it closed. He felt a warm cloth wiping his face, neck, then his upper chest where the shirt allowed. Then Eskel was kissing him. Slow and passionately. His lips, chin, jaw, and collarbones. Geralt felt like he was being drunk down. He tried to give back the best he could. He felt Eskel’s hand delve between them and unlace him. Then he felt Eskel’s hot cock touching his own. Eskel’s was gripping them both in one of his large hands softly stroking their lengths together as he ground his hips up against Geralt.

Geralt’s cries were muffled by Eskel’s kisses until Eskel left his mouth and ventured back down his neck.

“Uh, fuck, Eskel.” Geralt was whining high in the back of his throat, he needed this.

Eskel was nibbling at the sensitive skin just to the inside of his collarbone. Geralt was getting lost in the feel of that and his thumb running over the top of his cock with each upward pass. He hadn’t paid much attention to Eskel’s other hand which had been steadying his hips, but now the grip had loosened and it was shifting, traveling. It drew lazy circles over his lower back under his shirt, his thumb pressing into the divot where his hip met his back.

Geralt moaned.

Then it traveled lower, dipping into the loosened band of his trousers gripping his ass and giving it a squeeze. Geralt would have pressed his ass into Eskel’s roaming hand but that would have deprived his cock of Eskel’s other touches and he didn’t want that. The thumb teasing his head felt too good and he was close.

Each squeeze pulled his cheeks apart a little though and he was relaxing into that feeling, that openness he only had with Eskel. He didn’t know how long it had been when the hand crept in, gently parting him. Eskel’s finger resting on his tender bud, not moving just touching that hot place. His head lolled on Eskel’s shoulder as he gasped and remember the first time Eskel touched him there.

Eskel kept up a steady pace stroking them together, squeezing from base to head, then running his thumb around Geralt’s glans before dragging his hand back down. He turned his head to claim Geralt’s mouth, open and keening, as his head lay against his shoulder. And back and forth he began to drag his dry fingertip over Geralt’s soft rosebud, teasing him. Not to enter him dry like that, just to heighten the feeling, to make him remember, to make him think, to arouse him more. He let his finger tug at it, press on it, massage it and then withdraw, before returning again.

He could hear Geralt’s heart hammering in his chest and when that tight furl relaxed under his touch he pressed in the smallest amount. Just to the first knuckle, tugging at it, and then his lover was cumming in his hand, body stiff, breath held, that ring tightening maddeningly around his fingertip.

Sounds burbled up from Geralt’s throat and Eskel kissed him through it. He followed him over the edge quietly shuddering out his own orgasm. He stilled his hand on their cocks but he left his finger where Geralt’s body gripped it tightly.

“S’good, always,” Eskel murmured against the side of Geralt’s now smooth face.

“Ugh, you,” Geralt laughed lightly against Eskel, “you seem to be the one who’s good to me. But, okay.” His hole was starting to press at Eskel’s tiny intrusion. “Need to lie down.” He was feeling sleepy, he always felt incredibly doped up or sleepy when Eskel was done with him.

“Mmm ‘kay,” Eskel kissed Garelt distractingly as he eased his finger from its resting place, rubbing over the entrance after he left it to soothe it. He drew his legs back around on either side of Geralt, still sitting astride him, and grabbed the now cold washcloth, rinsing it in the bowl before proceeding to clean them both up. Then he he gently unfolded Geralt backward onto the bedroll. Geralt let his legs uncross and laid out. Eskel tucked him back into his pants and laced him back up.

Eskel set about tidying up. Tossing out the water from the rinsing bowl. Geralt meanwhile hazily floated while lying on the bedroll listening to the sounds of Eskel. Then Eskel came back in the tent, secured the flap, and laid down half on top of him, leg forced between Geralt’s thighs.

“Thank you,” Eskel said again.

“Hrm. For what exactly?” Geralt asked sleepily.

“For letting me shave you.” Geralt could feel Eskel smiling against his ear, could feel it pulling at the scars on his face and knew Eskel was genuinely happy.

“You’re welcome. It was something you really wanted to do.” Geralt was surprised that shaving him had been such a turn on for Eskel, if he hadn’t just experienced it he hardly would have believed it. Shaving and sex had not gone hand in hand for him until just now. “So I was happy I could let you have it.”

“S’there anything I could do for you?” Eskel asked patiently.

“Um, no? Everything you do for me feels great, Eskel.” Geralt wasn’t sure how to respond to this. He loved all the ways Eskel made his body respond to him. He didn’t want any of that to go away.

“Right, but is there anything that you like, that I haven’t done for you, that maybe you want me to?” Eskel was being insistent but polite. His hand putting attentive pressure on Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt closed his eyes and swallowed. There was something he liked a lot. He could get it in brothels, and Yen had explored it a bit with him because she was a sorceress and they always delighted in seeing people helpless around them. He let out a shakey breath. He didn’t want it to be like that with Eskel though. Maybe it would be different if he asked him? Eskel liked to take care of him not embarrass him.

“S’okay, you can tell me.”

Only then did Geralt realize he had been silent and breathing shaky for more than a few moments.

“I… I like to be tied up.” He felt Eskel’s smile widen even further.

“I like to hold you down and pin your wrists while I fuck you,” Eskel almost huffed out a laughed but he didn’t want to upset Geralt, “and you were worried that I’d think you were what, weird, for liking to be tied up? Gods, Geralt, I’d love to tie you up and take you.”

“Yea?”

“Oh Hells yes. And now I am gonna do it.” Eskel promised.

Geralt relaxed under him, running his hand through Eskel’s hair and whispered. “Thank you.”

 

In the morning when they woke up with the sunrise, they laid out their plan for the day. Eskel still needed to go turn in the contract he had finished and collect his reward. Also he had some small game traps set out in the area around the camp that needed checking. Both he had Geralt were running rather low on rations so there was a need to stock up and Geralt admitted that in his hurry to track down Eskel he had not sold off the items in his bags in a while and he really needed to go do some vendoring.

They decided that Eskel would turn in his contract and visit the vendors he needed to. While Geralt would go and visit the vendors he had need of, making sure to stock up on spices and other cooking necessities, before returning to camp to check the traps and get some cooking going for lunch. Then over lunch during the still warm afternoon part of the day they would discuss where to go from here.

They headed into Brugge and went their separate ways, they would meet back up at camp by noon anyway. Geralt lightened his load at several vendors before going to The Last Inn on the Left again to stock up on spices and staples. He headed back into the foothills and checked the traps. There were two pheasants, which he quickly dispatched. He also managed to dig up the roots of some Queen Anne’s Lace. Back in the camp he dug out a large pot and hung it over the spit, lighting a fire under it with his fingers. He dug through his alchemy bag and doled out some bear fat into the bottom of the pot, watching it melt and slide around while he pealed and sliced an onion he had bought in town. Tossing that in the pot to hiss and spit in the fat he proceeded to cut up the roots he’d gathered and add them. Next in went two potatoes chopped up, and the skinned and quartered pheasants. When it all seemed to have a nice crisp edge on it Geralt dumped in a half a bottle of wine. He nursed the rest while he went and gathered two tankards full of water from the stream to add to his impromptu stew. He set a lid on it after adding the cold water and let it sit over the fire. He pulled a large round of firewood over and contented himself with his half bottle of wine and stared at the fire while he waited for Eskel to finish his errands.

 

Eskel rode up on Scorpion not more than half a bell later. Geralt still had a quarter of the wine bottle left and the stew still had, preferably, a few more bells to go if they wanted it to actually taste good. Geralt informed Eskel of this as he was walking through the camp.

Eskel leaned over him and removed the wine bottle from his hand. He wrapped his fingers in Geralt’s hair and used it to tip his head back so Geralt had to look up at him. Then he brought his lips down to kiss him. Geralt’s lips were moist and tasted like the wine he’d been drinking. Eskel’s on the other hand were dry and smooth.

Geralt instantly felt a bit hazy at the hand tugging in his hair.

“Since we’ve time, I’d like to use it.” Eskel sounded a bit rough. “Stand up.”

Geralt followed Eskel’s command without question, only in part because of the tugging on his hair drawing him upward. Now standing up in front of Eskel, leaning into him for another kiss, Geralt had no illusions as to what Eskel wanted to spend the time until the stew was done doing. He could feel Eskel’s hardness pressing against him through the strain of both of their leathers.

“Tent?” Geralt couldn’t incline his head that way with his question because of the fingers still wrapped in his hair, but his eyes and his voice held the question for him.

“No.”

“No?” Geralt was a little confused. They were theoretically alone out here, but it was in the open nonetheless. Did Eskel want to risk that or had Geralt read the situation wrong.

“No. Take off your swords and armor.” Eskel’s hand slowly retreated from his hair so that he could move to do so. “Lean them up against the trunk of the oak there.”

As Geralt’s heart thundered away in his chest contemplating getting naked in the open where someone could walk up and see him while he was being taken, Eskel walked back to Scorpion and opened his saddle bag. Not wanting to disappoint him Geralt began shucking his armor as fast as he could. His face was burning hot and he was sure if had been able to blush he would have been bright red. It was one thing to bathe in a river. Even if he was caught having sex with a woman in the open the worst that would happen was harsh words and shame. If he was caught with Eskel though, another man, they’d be run out of town chased with torches and pitchforks. Eskel would probably have a reasonable answer to that though, along the lines of _wouldn’t be the first witchers to be chased out by pitchforks would we?_

“Your shaking,” Geralt almost jumped at the words and the comforting hand on his shoulder smoothing his hair out of the way.

“Gods! Eskel, what if someone sees us?”

“No one comes up here,” Eskel turned him around, “you can be as loud as you want, no one will hear but me. No one will see you except me.”

The heat in Geralt’s face was spreading to his chest, he dropped his head and looked at his feet. That’s when he saw what Eskel was holding. A long coil of braided rope hung limply in his left hand along with what looked like a soft piece of cloth.

Eskel sensed the tension creeping back into Geralt’s shoulders, the slight shake returning, and cupped his chin in his hand. Running his thumb over Geralt’s lips several times he pulled him forward to kiss his forehead.

Eskel breathed in and out his scent. “It s’not your job to worry if someone will see, or hear, or if there’s something in the woods, witcher.” He kissed Geralt’s forehead again. “That’s my job. You’re job is to give me control so that I can bring you pleasure and keep you safe. I can’t take that from you, you hafta give it to me.”

Geralt’s body was relaxing, he was leaning into Eskel’s hand. Eskel didn’t hurt him even when he thought it might it was always pleasure in the end.

“Okay.” He whispered against the thumb on his lips. He took a step back and held his arms out, wrists together, in front of him. Eskel’s pupils were wide open looking at him and the invitation he was being given.

He set to work first wrapping the soft wide suede leather band around one wrist then the other in a figure eight style until the edges barely met in the middle. Next he wrapped the pliant rope around and around both wrists together until there were eight or nine loops all stacked from middle of Geralt's forearm to the wrist. Eskel checked the tightness and the knots.

“Uncomfortable at all?” His voice sounded a bit broken but he looked Geralt in the eye and Geralt knew an answer was demanded.

“No,” the whisper was barely audible.

“If I do anything that hurts, you’ll tell me.” Geralt nodded in response. “If you want me to stop at any time just say ‘Novigrad’ and I will stop, I swear.” Geralt nodded again.

This was more reassurance than any tavern girl gave him, or Yen for that matter, why was he so…not afraid of Eskel… but unnerved by the situation? Because with them it was an illusion of control, but one tiny rope he could break or attached to a chair he could smash if he wanted, but with Eskel it was real? Eskel gave him a run for his money in every way and had tied him well and truly.

“You still want to do this Geralt?” Eskel’s question broke through his silent questioning, and he nodded again. “I want to hear you say it, out loud.”

“Yes.” Geralt was still quiet as a mouse.

“Yes, what Geralt? I want you to talk to me.”

Geralt cleared his throat, hoping to clear his mind a bit too. “I want you to tie me up, Eskel. I am yours.” Geralt fought with his supposedly non-existant emotions for a moment then continued, “it’s just. It’s different than it was before with others I was always still in control. With you I let you have everything and I… I feel a little adrift.”

The desire burning on Eskel’s face was so hot Geralt almost thought he could feel it burning him. Eskel was still holding the remaining coils of rope in his hand. Still fully dressed in all his armor with both his swords on his back. If it weren’t for the burning look on his face and the rope in his hand attached to Geralt he would have looked like any other day.

“Alright. It’s okay. We’ll start slow.” Eskel was talking quiet now, his hushed tone not as inaudible as Geralt’s but matching its softness. “I want you to drift so I can guide you, I just don’t want you to sink.” Eskel ran the fingers if his right hand through Geralt’s hair, undoing the leather tie holding half of it back, it was already messy anyway from his earlier grip. He arranged the hair on either side of Geralt’s face, tossing the tie back onto the pile of Geralt’s armor.

“Come over here.” Eskel gave a slight pull on the rope, steering Geralt in the direction he wanted. When Geralt was under the most horizontal limb of the oak Eskel tossed the rope up and over it pulling it tight, drawing Geralt’s arms up above his head. Eskel secured the rope behind Geralt’s hands through a loop he’d left at the bottom of where he’d wrapped Geralt’s mid forearm. He wound the excess back up and tied it along the line to the limb. Stepping back to admire his handy-work he watched as Geralt's chest heaved with each breath. His eyes were glazing over and his lips were parted. Gods he was beautiful.

Eskel unbuckled his sword belts and leaned them up against the trunk of the massive oak. Close at hand if he needed them for anything, or if Geralt panicked and he needed to get him down quickly. Then he unbuckled and shrugged off his chest armor setting it alongside Geralt’s pile. He noticed Geralt was now watching him disrobe attentively, his cock slightly twitching against his thigh. Eskel pulled his linen shirt over his head and folded it neatly before stacking it as well.

He returned to where Geralt was standing naked, arms taught above his head facing the camp.

“I’d rather you have a better view.” Using his hands on Geralt’s hips he turned him around to face the stream. The sunlight sparkled all over the water at midday. The colors of all the fall leaves were made brilliant by the explosion of light. It was quite a view. Eskel’s hands were still on his hips though and it was hard for Geralt to concentrate on both at once.

Eskel took a step towards him, pressing the front of his leathers against Geralt’s bare ass. How aroused he was by this was apparent and insistently pressing against Geralt’s cleft. Eskel circled his arm around to hold his forearm low around the front of Geralt’s hipbones pinning him there. Slowly he rutted up against Geralt’s ass while whispering in his ear.

“I’ve always loved this view. I’ve camped here before ya’know.” Eskel let the notched scar on his lip drag over the shell of Geralt’s ear and felt him shudder. “Now it’ll be better. I’ll always think of you strung up naked for me here too.”

Geralt felt his cock thrumming as the blood flowed into it. Filling it at the sound of Eskel’s voice. Gods that man could talk him up to a peak. Eskel continued his slow rutting as his other hand explored Geralt’s chest. Touching scars, giving quick pinches to his nipples before moving on, then dragging his blunt fingernails down Geralt’s chest from collarbone to hipbone.

“Fuck.” The swear was quiet coming out of Geralt’s mouth with a breath.

Eskel let go of his hips to bring both hands to the top of his chest and repeat the motion. Geralt let out a low guttural moan. His cock was now standing at full attention out in front of him.

Eskel moved around in front of him and dropped to his knees. Geralt was confused again for a second before he remembered that Eskel wanted this to be good for him. Then he felt the warm heat of Eskel’s tongue pressing against his length. Licking it up from he base, swirling around the top and then kissing his way back down. Only he didn’t stop at the base he kept going lower.

Geralt sucked in a large breath as Eskel’s lips found their way to his sac. At first kissing him there, then Eskel’s mouth opened and his tongue darted out to lick. Eventually he pressed his whole mouth up against Geralt and drew one sensitive aching ball into the blazing heat of his mouth and Geralt couldn’t catch the cry that escaped his lips. Geralt wanted to press up against that heat but he couldn’t he was tied up so tightly that any move would put him on his tip toes and he didn’t dare to lose his balance.

When Eskel drew back it bordered on pain but not quite, a second before it would have hurt it popped free of his mouth and he returned to lick at Geralt’s cock.

“Fuck. Me.” Geralt could barely string words together now, hot mouth on his cock, one ball aching and warm, the other chilling and throbbing.

“Eventually.” Eskel’s words vibrated right through his cock. Oh gods. Then that mouth was traveling down again and before he could keep track Eskel was sucking the other ball into his mouth rolling his tongue around it.

“Gods, I’m, I might…” Geralt broke off as he felt Eskel’s other hand circle around the base of his sack and pull down, not hard but firmly enough. Eskel’s mouth popped off his ball from the motion and it was not comfortable. It was not painful, but it was definitely not comfortable. And he was no longer on the edge of cumming.

“Not yet.” Eskel released his hold on Geralt’s sac, letting it draw back up some. He kissed the inside of Geralt’s thighs, each one in turn, almost as an apology for the slight discomfort. He knew how it felt, he did it to himself often, but he’d never denied Geralt before.

Eskel got to his feet bending his head to kiss Geralt’s mouth. He listened to his breathing and his heart rate. Both were fast and stuttering. His eyelids were half drooping and fluttered when he tried to look up at Eskel.

Eskel murmured against half of Geralt’s mouth, “I’m gonna do something else new to you, remember if you don’t like it you can tell me to stop.”

Geralt’s stomach was already sitting heavy in his groin, he was feeling hot all over and his thighs felt like pins and needles. What else new could Eskel possible do to him, he wondered through his fog. He couldn’t even muster a nod. But when Eskel looked at him he did give eye contact and tried to let him know he understood.

Eskel moved behind him again caressed his ass with both hands. He worked his boot between Geralt’s feet and began to spread them apart. This did cause him to have to stand on his tip toes but he managed to keep his balance. Eskel’s caress turned into a deeper massage, and with each pass he teased Geralt’s cheeks apart.

Geralt’s shuddered deeply as he felt the cooler air across his cleft, then it would come together again and be warm, before the next pass and the abrupt coolness as his hole was exposed to the air again. He was making noises, grunting, and groaning but he couldn’t control it. His eyes were closed without Eskel in front of him. He briefly worried that he was being watched. That some beast was stalking the woods learning he was vulnerable, but he set it aside, that was Eskel’s worry.

The next time his cheeks were held apart for longer and he knew that Eskel was looking at him there. Taking his fill of his lover, enjoying the sight, and Geralt was only a little ashamed because if that was what Eskel wanted of him then he could have it. Something wet touch his tight furl and he grunted loudly. It was warm, so much warmer than the herbalist’s liquid should be even if Eskel warmed it. It was soft as well, yielding, not like Eskel’s fingers or cock. While he was pondering this, it moved. Geralt may have screamed, he tried to jerk forward but almost lost his balance. Eskel’s hands on his hips holding his ass open caught him. Eskel was licking him he realized with a sob. Oh Gods. Why would he?

Eskel held him firm and laved away at his tight entrance, teasing the tight rim with the tip of his tongue. Geralt had only struggled for a moment and now seemed to have settled. He pressed the flat of his tongue against Geralt’s furl again drawing it up and along until the tip teased it and repeating. The heat and the wet slowly began to sink in and Geralt’s body loosened for him. He pointed his tongue and pressed against that tight heat with some force, feeling it give way for him little by little. He went back and forth laving and pressing as he worked Geralt open. Geralt’s breathing was coming in ragged gasps, and if Eskel weren’t holding his hips Eskel was sure he’d have lost his balance by now.

Rising up to stand behind him again Eskel moved the hair away from Geralt’s face on the left side. Placing his scarred cheek against Geralt’s to ground him in reality. Eskel closed his eyes and listened to Geralt’s breathing and heart rate, assessing how he was doing with all of this.

“Geralt?”

All he got in return was a low whimper, Geralt’s eyes were closed and he seemed to be trying to rock his hips lightly against Eskel.

“Geralt, can you talk to me a little?”

“I…can’t,” the words stuttered out of Geralt on each wobbly breath.

“Did that feel good?”

“Yea.”

“Do you wanna stop?” Eskel really hoped he didn’t because this was the most beautiful he’d ever seen Geralt, but he would stop if Geralt wanted to.

“Gods. No.” Geralt needed to cum, his body was humming with unspent energy now. If Eskel stopped now, he would cry. “I… need you.”

“Shh, s’okay. I got you.” Eskel undid his own laces and pushed his leathers and shorts down enough to free his cock. “Just need a moment.” Geralt groaned at the loss of contact as Eskel found the vial of liquid he had stashed by his armor and slicked himself up, wiping the excess on his linen shirt.

He could tell how tense Geralt’s legs were from being on tip toe the whole time he had been licking him open, the muscles were flexing under the skin. Eskel let his cock rub up against Geralt as he placed his hand behind his knee on the back of his thigh.

“Lift.” Eskel demanded.

Geralt complied but felt like he was going to fall over. He pulled on the ropes holding his wrists, hoisting himself up to take the weight off of his remaining leg. Eskel placed his hand under that thigh too though, pulling them wide, jutting Geralt’s cock out in front of him and spreading him wide.

“Lean back against me. I’ve gotcha.” Geralt let his back rest on Eskel’s chest. “Relax, I’ve got you.” Eskel repeated. “Let yourself down.” Against his better judgment Geralt did let his weight back down, settling on Eskel’s hands and arms, leaned back against him. He wondered briefly how long Eskel could hold him like this.

Geralt felt Eskel’s big flared cock head probing at him. Nudging at the warm softened edges of his very exposed entrance. He had never felt so open as he did spread wide like this one leg in each of his lover’s arms. He was still wet from Eskel’s earlier endeavors and somewhat loose. Not as loose as Eskel normally made him with his fingers though.

When that wide head pressed at him in earnest he felt every bit of it and he choked on his breath. He tensed his arms lifting away a bit before lowering back onto it with tremor as the head pressed past his rim and sat snuggly inside him. Eskel groaned into his shoulder.

As gentle as he’d been the first time Eskel pressed deep into him, in and out, over and over until he was seated fully and Geralt could feel his own balls resting on Eskel’s. It felt so intimate, them sitting gently on top Eskel’s for a moment. Once he’d adjusted Eskel began to lift him and let him sink back down with gravity. Gods, he felt everything. With Eskel behind him at this angle every stoke touched that spot inside him that took his breath away and made him see spots. Before long he couldn’t hear anything but the rushing of blood in his ears, his head was thrown back and laying on Eskel’s shoulder, his eyes were open but staring sightlessly at the white spots and sparkle of the sunlight dappling through the leaves of the oak. His mouth was open but he couldn’t hear what noises were coming out. His cock was leaking a steady stream of precum from all the stimulation to that spot, but Eskel kept lifting him and letting him slide back down that magnificent cock of his even as he thrust up to greet him. His thighs trembled and his stomach felt that icy cold creep over replacing the warmth.

Geralt came all over himself without his own hand or Eskel’s on him. His cock spilling on his belly. Still Eskel was thrusting up into him seeking his own release. It was almost more than Geralt could handle. With his cock rapidly softening, and the ache in his balls settled he had no distractions from the immense pressure of Eskel’s cock sliding in and out of him.

He whimpered quietly as the head rubbed over that spot again and again. So sensitive each pass caused his body to shiver and quake. Gravity and the stretch Eskel had his legs in had done such a job of opening him that Eskel slid in and out easily despite his thickness but Geralt’s ass ached hotly. His cocked throbbed weakly even though it was soft. He felt his balls tightening up again and he thought it wasn’t possible. He came again so hard it was almost painful, and he cried out loudly. Nothing leaked from his soft cock, but his orgasm was blinding. His stretched entrance grasped tightly at Eskel and Eskel grunted stilling deep inside of him spilling himself there.

Eskel took a moment to catch his own breath and soothe Geralt before lowering his legs to the ground. He pulled himself out slowly, Geralt almost hissing as he did. Geralt’s head rolled forward and hung between his shoulders. He was sagging on his rope not really putting weight on his feet. Eskel kissed his shoulder and tried to talk softly to him even though he was out of breath himself.

“Be right back,” he said, “gonna get you down.”

Eskel looked around behind him until he found Geralt’s water bag. He took that, a blanket from the tent, and his own linen shirt from earlier. Dousing the shirt with water he wiped himself down and tucked himself back into his leathers, lacing up quickly. Then he set about gently cleaning off Geralt, first his stomach and then his backside. Geralt stirred at the feel of the linen and cold water on his overused asshole. His head jerking up and a moan escaping.

“Shh, getting you down now. S’just me.”

Geralt sagged again at the sound of Eskel’s voice. Then shivered as he felt the blanket being wrapped around him. Eskel’s arm wrapped tightly around the outside of it. Eskel reached up and used his trophy knife to saw at the rope until it gave and Geralt collapsed against him. He carried him over his shoulder to the fire and laid him down in front of it.

Eskel lifted the lid and stirred the stew. The aroma cause Geralt’s eyes to lift part way.

“Rest. It’s still not ready yet.” Geralt closed his eyes again. He wanted Eskel to come hold him.

Eskel busied himself around camp for a few minutes, getting a new shirt, putting his armor and swords back on so at least one of them was prepared if need be, then he returned to the fire. He sat back against the big oak trunk and pulled Geralt into his lap still wrapped in the blanket. Geralt sighed against him.

“You were a beautiful mess, Geralt.” Eskel didn’t know how to tell him, everything they did together was amazing, each new thing better than the last. He’d once said it was the best night he’d ever spent with a man, but it was the best night he ever spent with anyone, ever, and each time was better.

“I don’t know why you would think a mess is attractive.” Geralt half snorted, he was so wiped out he didn’t have the energy for a proper retort.

“Mmm, ‘cause you’re only a mess for me?” Eskel kissed his forehead. “Nap now. I’ll wake you for food.”

 

A short while later the smell of pheasant stew assaulted his nostrils and Geralt realized he was starving. He was still wrapped up tight in nothing but his birthday suit and the blanket with Eskel’s arms draped around him. He looked up and saw Eskel staring at him.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” Geralt replied. “Should I get some clothes? Then we can eat.”

“We can eat. You can get clothes if you want to or just keep the blanket.” Eskel was smiling at him, his eyes sparkling a real smile. “I didn’t want to wake you up yet, you needed rest. I took you kinda far.”

Geralt wanted to hide his face, he couldn’t blush anyway, but he knew Eskel would hear the uptick in his heart rate. “It’s okay. I. I really enjoyed it.” He held Eskel’s gaze so he would know he meant it. “I’d do it again, if you wanted to.”

“Gods. I love you.” Eskel laughed.

“Yea, yea. You love me in bed.” Geralt smirked and laughed.

“No.” Eskel gave him a serious look that gripped Geralt’s chest in a weird way. “I mean it. I love you. Don’t ever think that I don’t.”

Geralt’s smirk faded away quickly and he sat up in Eskel’s lap. He placed his hand all along Eskel’s scarred cheek, thumb over the notch in his lip. He loved that silky divot. Leaning in he kissed Eskel. “I love you too. That’s why I want you to stay the winter with me. In Kaer Morhen.” He looked Eskel in the eyes, “I don’t think I can stand to be away from you that long.”

Eskel closed his eyes. “I can’t promise I won’t be miserable.”

“You won’t be, because I will be there for you too.”

Eskel let out a long breath. Time to face his fears. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far so good with a schedule of posting once a week. Thanks to everyone who is along for the ride.
> 
> Comments and kudos are great for keeping motivated :)


	8. How to Knock a Witcher Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He left the rest of the rope coiled up and hanging from the hook in a not at all subtle invitation that it was Eskel’s turn to get off too, and he was more than okay with Eskel using his body for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no beta
> 
> NSFW obviously :D
> 
> The boys head home for the winter. Shenanigans. Lambert.

“Ahhh fuck!” screamed Eskel, as he felt a wound open on his side, the leather on his chest piece parting easily under horn. He watched as the gray sky sailed overhead, then the ruins came into view, except they were sideways, jutting horizontally into his vision. Wait, maybe it was him that was askew. He turned oddly as he sailed through the air before hitting the ground with a hard thump. All of the air exited him in a quick oomph.

“S’n of’a bitch.” He groaned out. Every thing swam before his eyes. He tried to get his arms under himself to get back up and get back in the fight before he got trampled but it just wasn’t happening. Not yet. Geralt could finish off the fiend. It was his idea to take the contract on the way through Kaedwen anyway. Eskel needed a rest.

“Eskel?!” There was some major panic in Geralt’s question. The loudness had drawn the beast’s attention though, which was good he really didn’t want Eskel to get trampled. Eskel soundlessly raised a gloved hand to waive in acknowledgment, indicating that he was indeed not bleeding to death. Thank the gods. Eskel hadn’t dodged the fiend’s head swipe quite fast enough and had taken a good hit.

Geralt was not about to make the same error, pirouetting to the side he cast axii and proceeded to skewer the beast on his sword. He pulled it out with some effort and still had time for a hard overhand swing while it was still dazed. The fiend slumped on its front legs and Geralt lodged his sword into its neck right at the spine ending it.

He rushed over to Eskel. He had rolled over onto his back, one hand holding the gash in his armor, the other off to the side holding a now empty bottle of what had been swallow. He was staring up at the sky and looked exhausted.

“What the hell was happened?” Geralt was truly wondering how a ninety-something year old witcher had been nailed by a fiend when he had assistance.

“Was worried. ‘Bout you,” Eskel complained, “getting hurt. S’ distracting.”

“Seriously? Eskel, we are Master witchers. Either of us could take a fiend alone.” Geralt was nonplussed. “Together should be _easier_.”

“I know,” Eskel said loudly, “doesn’t mean I don’t worry ‘bout you still.” He was still looking at the dull sky overhead, he didn’t really want to look at Geralt’s face right now. Vesemir had been a Master witcher too, and older than both of them for all the good it had done him in the end. The closer they got to Kaer Morhen the more real it became. He felt a tug on his medallion and looked down to see Geralt pulling at it, not hard, but enough to get his attention.

“Mmhmmm, and now we know why witchers work alone. No more contracts together.” There was a hint of humor in his statement Eskel noted thankfully. “Since we just cleaned out this nice ruin, how about you make it into a hospitable camp while I harvest a trophy and collect our pay? Since division of labor seems to work better for us and all that.” Geralt outright laughed at himself for that one.

“Okay,” Eskel mumbled but a smiled quirked at the left corner of his face. He removed his hand from his wound. The bleeding had slowed, swallow was working, he would be fine in short order. He wasn’t injured badly other than his pride, he was being _stupid_.

Geralt offered him a hand getting up, and then moved his arm to the side to get a better look at his wound. Eskel pulled his arm right back in against it.

“M’fine.” Eskel rebuffed his attempt at inspection.

“Alright,” Geralt said softly, “if you insist.”

“I do.” Eskel whistled for Scorpion and Roach followed closely behind. He walked off with them away from the corpse and toward the half fallen tower ruin that the beast had called home until recently. Geralt could only laugh internally and shake his head at how… _insolent?_ … Eskel had become all of a sudden. He was obviously frustrated with himself.

Geralt decided it was best to get their trophy and give Eskel time to collect his thoughts alone while he went to the village and turned it in. Grabbing his knife he set about his task. Once it was completed he entered the ruin to see if Eskel had gotten everything he needed for camp off of Roach, then leaned in for an innocent kiss on the lips before leading her out. He tried to put as much relaxation and honest caring into it as he could and Eskel seemed to receive it well. Then he loaded the trophy on the hook mounted on his saddle and road off to collect some money.

Eskel for his part harrumphed and puttered around inside the ruin.

“I know it was stupid.” He said to Scorpion. Scorpion chomped his bit back, looking at Eskel.

“Don’t sass me like that.”

Scorpion stared blankly at him.

“I just… get more and more nervous the closer to Kaer Morhen we get, boy.” Eskel let out a breath. “I don’t dislike what I am, but sometimes I feel like that place isn’t home anymore. I have lost everything there- my destiny, my comrades, then the only father I ever knew.” He walked up and leaned against Scorpion’s face closing his eyes. “What if it takes him too?” Eskel barely whispered.

Scorpion took the opportunity of closeness to taste Eskel’s hair. Peeling his lips back to lick it into his mouth and chew. Eskel burst out laughing.

“Alright, alright boy. I get it, I need to relax. Geralt can take care of himself.” Reclaiming his now slimy hair, Eskel went about actually setting up a comfortable camp. The ruin was dry, he gathered a good amount of deadfall and made a large fire. Nights were getting rather cold now, no sense in being cold with them if they didn’t have to. He laid their bedrolls out together giving them more room to tangle up with each other.

He unbuckled his armor and took off his shirt. Using some water from his water bag he rinsed the blood off of the leather, then got he shirt wet and cleaned the dried blood off his side. All that was left after the swallow was done with it was a sore raw red mark. Barely knit together and tender for a few days more, he’d have to be careful not to pull it or it would open back up, but no bones were broken, he’d live with just a new scar. He slipped a clean shirt on, and worked some soap into the bloody mess of the old one before rinsing it as best he could with the little water he wanted to waste. He wrung it out and it was dingy brown at best. It would do until he could properly launder it though. He laid it out to dry and and found a thin leather string. Using his knife he poked holes along the sides of the cut in his chest piece and strung the leather through pulling it together. No masterwork for sure but it would hold it together in a fight until he could get it repaired properly.

He put his armor back on over the clean shirt only wincing slightly and buckled himself back up. He sat on the bedrolls and worked on cleaning and sharpening his swords while he waited for Geralt to come back.

 

When Geralt returned he carried gold and dumplings. They split the gold and warmed the dumplings back up on the stones of the fire ring Eskel had made. They enjoyed some Kaedweni Stout both with dinner and after. Geralt ignored the rust tinted shirt drying in the corner and curled up to Eskel’s uninjured side on the bedrolls using his shoulder as a pillow and burrowing his head under Eskel’s chin. Geralt reached up and traced the shape of Eskel’s crooked smiled with his fingers, and Eskel kissed his fingers back. Then Eskel was kissing him long and languid the way he loved to and Geralt let him take it as much as he wanted. Soft shallow kisses, followed by long deep ones, over and over until Geralt was moaning with frustration. In the end, after what felt like hours, Eskel took him in hand and helped him over the edge. When Geralt tried to return the favor Eskel stole his hand and planted kissed on it too and told him to go to sleep.

 

Two days later as they were riding in silence, close enough together that Geralt’s leg occasionally brushed against Eskel’s as the horses walked, the gates of Kaer Morhen came into view. The front gate was down and all was silent. Sensing Eskel’s deep unease Geralt nudged Roach over even closer, Scorpion didn’t seem to mind that she was practically rubbing on him now as she walked. The effect was the same for Eskel, putting his leg in near constant contact with Geralt’s until they sat astride their mounts directly in front of the closed gate.

“Watch Roach for me. I’ll sneak in the back path Lambert likes to use to go fishing.”

“K’” Eskel sounded muted, voice duller than normal.

He sat there for a good quarter bell or more, before the gate groaned to life and began to lift. Geralt walked out with a smug look on his face.

“We’re not very secure.” Eskel stated blankly.

“But no one knows except me, you, and Lambert.” Geralt countered back as though that obviously made it secure.

They headed in and lowered the gate. Stabling their horses and carrying their things into the main keep. Eskel headed towards Geralt’s room.

“Could we,” Geralt wasn’t quite sure how to approach this, “could we stay in your room Eskel?”

“Uh, sure.” Eskel was still feeling off and wasn’t sure why Geralt sounded hesitant about a simple request like that, he’d just assumed which room Geralt wanted to stay in.

“It’s just that I have old memories of Yen and Triss in my room, and you have never shared your room. I want to make new memories with you in a place that is special to us. One that only belongs to you and me.”

Eskel felt his gut drop. Oh hells yes. He turned on his heel. “Bring anything you want up to our room then.” He couldn’t hide his grin, pulling awkwardly at his scars as he headed the other way up to his room. _Their_ room. Once there he dropped everything on the floor and began to rearrange a bit. It was dusty, and musty. Gods it stunk like old dry rock. He opened a window and hells if that wasn’t cold. He put some new logs in the fireplace and lit it with igni to fight off the chill from the window as he aired it out. He opened the armoire and tried to move some of his stuff around to make room on one side for Geralt. Maybe they would just have to bring one of his up from his old room. They could definitely bring in an extra trunk for armors, the man was practically a hoarder.

He was busy beating the dust out of one of last furs from the end of the bed on the small balcony when Geralt entered, armful of items in tow. He set them down and assessed the situation. There was only one chair by the roaring fireplace. He knew he would want a second so they could sit together and drink while watching the blaze. Eskel’s bed was huge and comfortable looking, and the stone floor was covered in many places by furs. Of course there was a large wooden tub off to the side and near it was a plain sturdy vanity with a porcelain bowl for water and stool, Gods knew Eskel liked cleanliness and a proper shave. Geralt rubbed his chin unconsciously. It had been a few days, and Eskel was probably ready to shave him again. Even though every time didn’t end in sex, it was definitely a turn on for him and it led to better sex later. Geralt had to admit he was really coming around to the idea after all.

“We should check the stores in the pantry and all that.”

“Yeah. Need a second chair up here too, by the fire.” Geralt opined.

They headed back down and went over what was available. Deciding that Eskel should set out some traps for now, and that they would need to go hunting for some bigger game soon before winter really hit. The garden was a mess. Geralt vowed to salvage what he could though. Eskel hauled a chair up from Geralt’s old room for him. Tomorrow while Eskel was setting out traps Geralt would go foraging and see how many wild things he could round up. Usually there was an ample amount of mushrooms by the lake, those they could dry. Maybe he could russle up some Queen Ann’s Lace roots again, or some wild onions. He might need to make a quick trip to the nearest village though and buy potatoes and other long storing vegetables to get them through. It hit Geralt then that Eskel was right, Kaer Morhen was not the same without Vesemir. The old man had not walked the Path much anymore. Most of his time was devoted to the keep. He used his time making sure it stayed alive, and gathering and maintaining the stores they needed for each winter. Without him, they were under prepared. They would do fine. But it was a sad realization that it would never be the same again. They would never just arrive to a winter home with a full larder.

That evening they ate some of their trail rations and drank wine in front of the blazing fire. Eskel’s wound was mostly healed into yet another scar, and he stripped Geralt naked before sitting him in his lap and stroking him lazily in front of the fireplace. Eskel spread his legs over the arms of the chair and worked him open with the utmost care and tenderness, while Geralt squirmed on top of him. While Geralt came loudly with Eskel’s fingers buried deep inside and his other hand wrapped around his throbbing cock, Eskel still denied himself the pleasure.

 

In the end they had no trouble with traps or hunting larger game. The mushrooms and some herbs were abundant. Geralt had to make a hasty run for potatoes, flour, honey, and a few other staple items though. Luckily it had been a profitable fall, and that last contract had added to it, so gold wasn’t tight. He also bought some soft rope he thought Eskel might appreciate.

All settled in, and the first snow had yet to really hit. Geralt set about making a pot of venison stew and some biscuits when he returned and Eskel settled himself into the laboratory to replenish their potions stocks. While the stew was marinating over the fire in the kitchen Geralt headed up to their room to test out his idea. He had an old spare trophy hook that had gotten very dull and he wanted to see if he could re-purpose it. He took a short piece of the new rope he bought and used it to lash it to the middle of the headboard. It angled up so if you looped rope onto it from the bottom it would be hard to unhook without a lot of slack. It was perfect. Not quite a tree branch, but more than enough to let you tie someone’s hands above their head. He left the rest of the rope coiled up and hanging from the hook in a not at all subtle invitation that it was Eskel’s turn to get off too, and he was more than okay with Eskel using his body for that. He padded back down the stairs and checked his stew adding some mulled wine to it.

Dinner was glorious. The stew was perfect, and the biscuits came out just right. Eskel offered to feed the horses and Geralt took kitchen duty. He heard when Eskel came back in, heard him wander upstairs. He stretched out the washing of the pot and tankards to give Eskel time to ponder the whole offer. Then he rinsed everything and headed up.

Eskel was facing away from the door, the hook was still mounted on the bed, but the rope was gone. He could hear Eskel’s breathing only slightly heavier than normal.

“Geralt.” Eskel sounded lusty.

Geralt didn’t say anything as he entered the room and closed the door. He wordlessly started to undress.

“What d’you want from me?”

“I want you to enjoy yourself.”

Eskel turned around, he was holding the rope in front of him in both hands. “I always enjoy myself, I told you that.”

“I know. And you said it makes it more intense later. Now I want you to enjoy that, _with me._ ” Geralt felt a little too open, standing there naked from the waist up, pants pushed down around his thighs stalled getting his boots off. “Please.” His cock gave a jerk at the idea of exactly how intense it might be to have Eskel all wound up and ploughing into him after a week of not letting himself off.

“Why d’you still have your boots on?” Eskel raised an eyebrow in a quirk.

Geralt manically tried to remove his boots at what was clearly an order, but with his pants around his thighs he’d hogtied himself and nearly toppled over. He shuffled over to the bed and sat down ditching his boots as fast as he could before shoving his pants to his ankles and stepping out of them. He looked up at Eskel.

Eskel’s eyes had gone dark dark amber with passion. “Lie down on the bed and hold out your arms.”

Geralt complied immediately. Eskel began looping the rope around his wrists leaving a small loop at the end to slide over the hook. He tested the tightness and asked Geralt if it felt okay, checking his fingers for any signs of loss of circulation. When Geralt said it was good Eskel leaned in taking his hands above his head and fastening the loop over the hook.

Kissing him lightly he whispered, “remember, ‘Novigrad’,” before pulling back.

“Okay,” Geralt felt like he had a fever all of a sudden. Hot and sweaty but chilled all over.

“Pull your knees up, now spread your legs. I want to see you.” Eskel’s voice was like the smooth steal of their swords and it cut right through him. He complied willingly even though he felt the heat rising in his chest and face at being so exposed. No one could see but Eskel, even so Eskel could see everything. His delicate rounded balls hanging down, his twitching velvet hard cock lying up on his stomach, maybe even his winking little hole. Gods.

Eskel walked away from the bed. He rummaged in the vanity drawer before returning with a tin.

“Remember this stuff?” _Oh, the lanolin._ “S’ not quite as slick as the other. It’ll be slower, you’ll feel more.”

“Yes.” Geralt was answering a question he wasn’t sure if he’d really been asked.

Eskel dropped back onto the bed scooping some onto his finger and pressing it right up against Geralt’s tightness.

“Ohh.” He bent down and captured Geralt’s mouth for a kiss.

Whispering into Geralt’s mouth, “When I am in you, your gonna feel me tug and pull at you, feel my cock drag inside of you.”

“Please!” Oh Gods yes he wanted that. Eskel was kissing into his mouth when he felt that first finger insistently plunge its way past his tight ring. He grunted with it. There was no preamble today. It was tight and hot, and almost rough but never quite. When Eskel pulled away again he was panting.

“Fuck Eskel, please.”

“Patience.”

Eskel worked that finger back and forth over his ring, spreading the thick tacky lanolin over it, rubbing it in and massaging his tight furl. He was so focused on it that it was a shock when the second blunt finger pushed in along side it. He sucked in a breath holding it tight, his entrance clamping down on those two fingers.

“Easy. Breath.” Eskel was calm and that voice reminded Geralt how much he trusted him. He let out a shaky breath and forced his body to let Eskel in. “Good. S’ good for me.” Eskel kissed him again.

Eskel worked him longer with two fingers until Geralt was moaning loudly and begging for more. When he got off the bed this time Geralt was panting and sweaty.

“No. Don’t leave me. Please.”

“Right here. S’ okay.”

Eskel stripped off his clothing and stroked himself with a generous amount of lanolin. He was already aching hard and this was going to be such a tight fit. He crawled back over Geralt and pushed two fingers right back up into him deeply.

“Ungh!” Geralt’s hips rose off the bed with it. He pressed up against the knot of nerves inside Geralt and stroked against it lightly drawing out a moan from the other man. Crooking a third finger next to the other two he folded it against the taught ring of muscle before working it on next to the other two. After a few shallow thrusts with three fingers he removed them all and settled himself between Geralt’s legs spreading them as wide as he could, holding them out to the side before lining himself up.

Geralt was watching him glassy eyed and blissed out. “Please. I want you to enjoy me”

“Fuck.” Eskel muttered softly as he pressed in. It was slow going, it really wasn’t as slick. As he pushed in, Geralt’s hole grabbed back pulling the skin on his head tight. It was heavenly. He relaxed for a second and pressed in again. It was like their first time all over again, only better because Geralt was so pliable now. That forbidden heat was squeezing him tightly and yet he knew now Geralt trusted him so much that he could take it. Take what he wanted and enjoy it, Geralt had given it willingly over and over again. He sank himself all the way in and listened carefully to Geralt’s babbles of “more” “gods” and “Eskel” on the edge of his hearing as he lost himself in the sensation of his lover’s body. Pulling out was sweet torture. Geralt’s body hugged him tightly not wanting to let him go, and just when he was about to slip free he sank back in again. His cock was throbbing in Geralt’s ass and Geralt’s crying out was loud and expletive laden.

“Feel me?” Eskel pressed the heel of his hand low on Geralt’s stomach, right above his pubic bone as he thrust in aiming for that bundle of nerves again.

“Ugh, Eskel!”

“Do you, feel me?” Eskel pressed again as he thrust inside Geralt’s body towards his own hand. He was insistant on an answer.

“YES! Oh Gods,” Geralt could see spots floating in front of his eyes and he wanted to cum so bad. If only Eskel could let himself go.

Eskel growled at the answer and rubbed his heel into Geralt’s stomach pressing that tight knot of nerves up against his cock head as he thrust slow and deep into Geralt. Precum was pooling on his stomach above Eskel’s hand.

“Fuck, fuck…” Geralt felt like he couldn’t breath, he wanted Eskel to cum, but Eskel was in control as always and he couldn’t deny what Eskel was making his body do. “I.. I’m gonna…”

“Please.” Eskel asked and that was more than Geralt could handle. His cum flooded his stomach as his hips lifted up against Eskel’s hand. Eskel brought his hand up to Geralt’s mouth fingertips covered in his own seed and Geralt sucked them in. Closing his mouth around them and licking at them. He saw Eskel’s eyes wide open in awe, mouth fallen into a twisted ‘O’, and felt his whole body tremble as he moaned loudly, “OH FUCK!”

Geralt felt that sweet warmth spreading inside his ass and he was drifting. Hearing nothing but his own heartbeat. Feeling the warm heavy weight of Eskel blanketing him. He had a vague feeling of being lifted, and his arms being lowered. He felt like the world around him might be moving but he didn’t care. He had done his job, he’d taken care of Eskel. He was warm. He knew Eskel wold take care of him now and keep him safe.

 

“My room was always colder than a waterhag’s tits in winter. Eskel’s not coming back so we’ll just take his. It’s warmer.”

Lambert was amazed he had convinced Keira to come stay at the keep even for a few weeks this winter. She had not enjoyed her time there during the fight against the Wild Hunt. Old and dusty, broken down, and ugly. Worse than the swamp she had said. She was right of course. He had persuaded her only on the merit it wasn’t fair to let Geralt sit alone all winter long.

They had landed in the main hall via portal, but Lambert already knew Geralt was here because the kitchen smelled vaguely of food. No one had come to greet them and portals weren’t exactly quiet though, so he assumed that Geralt was either outside the walls gathering or dead asleep hungover. Might as well settle in first. Keep the lady happy.

Lambert led the way padding silently up the steps winding towards Eskel’s old room. He didn’t bother to knock, merely pushing the door wide open.

“Here we are.” He announced to Keira. “What in fucks happened here?!” He shouted bluntly starring at the sight before him. Keira only covered her mouth with her hand and schooled her face rapidly.

“Shhh.” Eskel glared groggily at Lambert from the chair by the fireplace. “You wake him up, I’m gonna be pissed.” Geralt was draped around him in the chair, knees on either side of Eskel’s hips, one arm in between them, the other around his neck, cuddled up entirely against him. He was out cold.

They were both clearly naked with only a blanket around their hips to keep Geralt’s ass out of plain view. _Thank gods for small mercies_ thought Lambert. What the hell was Eskel even doing here. He said he was leaving Kaer Morhen for good. Adrenaline and a little bit of inner pissy anger taking over the shock, Lambert stalked quietly over towards the chair.

“What are you doing here you ass? Your not supposed to be here.” He half whispered sort of louder than he intended.

Geralt grunted and pressed his nose deeper into the crook of Eskel’s neck. Eskel glared harder. “What’s it look like Lambert? I told you. Don’t. Wake. Him. Up.”

“What did you do to him?” Lambert had never seen the famous White Wolf so out of it as to sleep though people talking by him. Curiosity was going to get him killed someday, that or his sarcastic wit, he knew it.

Eskel smiled proudly, “I tied him up and fucked him until he passed out.”

“Oh my gods I don’t wanna know…”

“Then get out of here and go to your own room.”

“My rooms cold”

“Then take Geralt’s old room”

“Ookay.” Lambert drew the word out as he turned around to find Keira out in the hall, “just don’t tell me any more.”

“He liked it.” Eskel said quietly laughing to himself as he heard the two walking towards the stairs.

“I can’t hear you!” Lambert called back annoyed.

“Yes you can,” Eskel said quietly again. This was gonna be fun.

As the footsteps retreated down the stairs he heard a faint, “LA, LA, LA, LA .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments appreciated, kudos loved. Hell I am just thrilled people are reading my first born baby fic.
> 
> Look Geralt finally got his wish, he made Eskel lose it enough to make some noise in bed hahaha! Only took how many chapters.


	9. Return to Kaer Morhen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m gonna go make some porridge for everyone.” Eskel kissed his now smooth chin. “You come down when you think you can handle Lambert with a straight face.” Eskel got up to leave.  
> “So never.”  
> “Don’t turn into a prune in there.” Eskel closed the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Beta
> 
> In this chapter: Lambert, Feels, F*ing - in that order

“Well at least he’s not spending the winter alone.” Keira mused.

“Gods. I don’t wanna think about it.” Lambert grumbled. He had a bottle of white gull mixed with his homemade moonshine that he found still stashed in the kitchen and he was nursing it in what used to be Geralt’s room. Keira, bless that lady, was unpacking their stuff for him. He was too confused to consider anything other than drinking at the moment.

“They were lonely and now they’re not Lambert.” She stuffed a few corsets into the armoire, it still held some odds and ends of Geralt’s older armors it seemed. “Kinda like you.” She said thoughtfully.

“But I didn’t go and screw my sister over it!” He was exasperated at how she didn’t see how weird this was. “These two grew up together, they’ve known each other forever, and now one is ploughing the other unconscious?! It’s wrong.”

“Because they are both men?” She came up behind him to put her arms around him and pressed her head into his back.

“No. Gods, I couldn’t give two shites about that. Stick it in whatever hole ya want as long as it ain’t mine. No, because they’re practically,” he screwed his face up at the thought, “family.”

“Your family.” She said into his back.

“My family is dead.” Lambert’s voice had that distant tone that brooked no argument.

“Of course they are.” She argued right back anyway. “These two are related by nothing but strong bonds and a harsh life lived relatively closely. There is no blood involved. There is nothing abhorrent in this, and they can still be _your_ family even if they are together.” She squeezed him tightly.

“Why do I bother arguing with you?” He asked.

“Because no one else will argue without swearing back at you.” He could feel her smiling at his back.

“It’s still weird.”

“You’ll get over it.” Then she added, “at least _you’ve_ never slept with one of them.”

Lambert covered his ears.

 

Eskel had to admit he wasn’t exactly comfortable anymore. The fire was still going strong so he was warm, and he could sit in this position with Geralt on top of him for hours more without an issue, but he did need to piss. He didn’t want Geralt to wake up without him there though, and before Lambert and Metz had shown up he might have just slipped out and gone over the side of the balcony because no one would have known. Now he didn’t feel like it would be appropriate though. Kaer Morhen had people in it again. Best to respect that.

His hands rested lightly over Geralt’s lithely toned ass cheeks. He was ghosting his thumbs up and down the beautiful skin there. He let one hand slide in the middle in between and ever so gently settled one finger over that slightly swollen furl. Geralt would be tender today. He should get water up to the tub so he could soak. Geralt slumbered on, unaware of Eskel touching him so intimately. Gods, pissing would have to wait.

Eskel dozed off for a little bit and stirred when he felt Geralt moving above him. A small kiss pressed into his neck, and then a warm hand massaged the scars on his face.

“Mmm ‘do love that.” He leaned into the hand working the stiffness out of his cheek before kissing it.

“Is it morning?”

“-ish.” Eskel’s voice sounded like it was smiling to Geralt.

“Can I have a bath?”

“As soon as I piss.”

Geralt laughed against his neck, “Okay.”

Eskel leaned forward in the chair picking him up as he stood, Geralt wrapping his legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders. He carried him over to the bed and laid him down sideways across it. He then rummaged through the trunk at the foot for two pairs of linen trousers and shirts. He laid one next to Geralt and then sat next to him to get dressed.

“Not in the mood to streak naked to the outhouse huh?” Geralt queried.

“Lambert showed up with Metz a little while ago, didn’t think she’d appreciate a full view.”

“Wait. Full view?” Geralt was signifigantly more awake now and gave Eskel a sidelong look, “That sounds like she got a partial view already.”

Eskel almost snickered, “Well Lambert did open the door without knocking.” He continued to get dressed, the need for relief was real.

Geralt buried his face in his hands. “Oh no. Oh Gods why.” He rolled on his side away from Eskel. “And I didn’t even wake up?”

“Don’t worry, your beautiful ass was covered.” Eskel ran a hand down Geralt’s back. “He seemed more mad he couldn’t steal my room than anything. I gave him yours instead.”

“I am never going to live this down.”

“If he s’ much as breathes a word of disrespect to you, he’ll regret it.” There was fierce protectiveness in Eskel’s tone. “He won’t though. He’ll tease you, and me, relentlessly. I’ll give him horseshite back. Already have.” A wicked half smile was teasing Eskel’s mouth. “C’mon get dressed.”

 

They went out to the outhouses and Eskel felt like he pissed for ages. Then he started hauling water up to the tub for Geralt. He heated it when it was mostly full and they both got in. Eskel did a quick wash before getting out to shave. Geralt on the other hand soaked his soreness away for awhile. Then Eskel brought the stool over and sat outside the tub leaning over to shave Geralt as he tipped his head back and rested it on the wooden edge still soaking in the heat.

“I’m gonna go make some porridge for everyone.” Eskel kissed his now smooth chin. “You come down when you think you can handle Lambert with a straight face.” Eskel got up to leave.

“So never.”

“Don’t turn into a prune in there.” Eskel closed the door behind him.

 

In the kitchen Eskel pulled out a large pot and set it over the hearth. He brought the fire to life with his fingers. He tossed a couple of scoopfuls of oats in and a lump of butter from the larder. While that was melting around he took a bowl and headed out to track down Lil’ Bleater. The goat had stayed in the meadows around the fort all summer apparently and he was so proud she’d survived the wilds he brought her back in when he found her while hunting when they first arrived. He milked her before pressing a handful of oats he’d snuck out with him to her mouth, which she greedily ate.

“Good girl.”

Eskel went back in to find the oats toasting nicely. He ground up a handful of almonds in the mortar and pestle on the table and dumped those in with a scoop of honey letting that all simmer with the butter for a few minutes before pouring in the milk. He stirred it together and moved the pot over a warmer area to let it heat to a near boil. He was watching and waiting for it to boil so he could move it off the heat when Lambert strolled in. Eskel could tell he had already started on his special white gull mix. He wasn’t soused, but maybe buzzed.

“Well, at least your dressed.” Lambert declared dryly.

“Cookin’ naked is never a good idea.” Eskel replied.

“What would Papa Vesemir say?” Lambert smiled wryly then, “You’d waste your swallows because you splattered bacon grease on your bits?” He did a spot on impression of the old man, and it made Eskel sad and happy at the same time.

“So I wear clothes, wouldn’t wanna disappoint Papa Vesemir.”

“Do I smell breakfast?” Keira’s light pleasant voice entered the kitchen. Eskel noticed the porridge was boiling and moved it off the heat to thicken.

“You do. I figured the least I could do after this morning was feed you.” Eskel tried to hide a grin when looking at her and Lambert.

“I already told you. I don’t want to know Eskel.” Lambert’s indignation was obvious. “I’m not getting any fatter standing here though.”

Eskel stirred the porridge one more time and then set to slicing up some apples to go on top. Keira helpfully filled a pitcher with cold water from the well and placed it on the table. Eskel carried out bowls and tankards, laying them out. Geralt finally wandered down sheepishly and sat at the table. Eskel was bringing out the porridge pot and Keira the apples.

Eskel smiled at Geralt as he set the pot down. “Mornin’.”

“Hey.”

“We thought we’d drop by to keep you company, Geralt.” Keira’s smile was warm and welcoming. “We didn’t want you to be lonely all winter.”

“Oh, he’s definitely not lonely!” Lambert piped up from the kitchen. He may not be in the room but he could certainly hear everything.

“He’s just jealous.” Eskel winked.

“I am not,” Lambert strolled around the corner, and Geralt could smell the white gull moonshine mix, “…jealous! I’ve got a perfectly good woman, right here.” He pulled Keira against him by his arm around her waist, bottle still in hand, and planted a less than graceful kiss on the top of her head.

Keira pried the bottle out of his hand and set it on the table.

“Hey, that was mine.” Lambert huffed.

“Still is, but its time to eat, moonshine and porridge don’t mix. Have some water.” Keira deftly danced around Lambert until he was seated opposite Geralt and had a tankard of water in front of him. She was dishing him up a bowl and he was reaching for some apples. Geralt had to hand it too her, she really seemed to have found a way to tame Lambert. He was still his prickly self, but she got away with more than anyone else ever could have.

Geralt dished himself up. It smelled delicious and he had worked up a hell of an appetite in the last day. Eskel slid in beside him, squeezing his knee under the table before digging in himself.

It was mostly quiet while they ate. The occasional muffled grunt of accession or dissension to Keira’s questions and statements. Eventually she realized that these were three grown witchers with huge amounts of stamina and a set of metabolisms to match. Clearly what she’d experienced with Lambert on many occasions after a long night was not unique and there would be no conversation the morning after until they’d all eaten their fill. She smiled inwardly and relaxed, letting them eat in silent peace.

After everyone but Keira had a second helping they slowed down a bit. Eskel and Geralt started to pry out of Lambert what he’d been up to as a ‘kept witcher’. Lambert had bristled at the insinuation, and regaled them with tails of portaling near and far. He didn’t feel kept at all he gloated, as he’d told Geralt before he simply had it made with a warm bed at the end of the night. Every night. Except for right now, because the keep was full of holes and freezing as usual.

Lambert asked what they had been up to. Then he respecified, what contracts, don’t tell me about your sex life. Everyone got a good laugh out of that. Geralt started to relax and feel less sheepish.

Keira wanted to see how Lambert fished in the winter. Both Eskel and Geralt were excited about that. Some salted fish to add to the stock in the larder would be nice to mix things up. Geralt offered to chop some extra wood for their fireplace in return. Lambert was never one to turn down free heat.

 

 

It was nice to have people in Kaer Morhen again. They stayed for two weeks. Lambert complained about the cold like old. They all got completely wasted, save Keira, and there was way to much over-share for Lambert’s liking. He would never look at his trophy hook the same. He had to admit, only to himself though, it had merits and he wondered if Keira would be interested in the idea.

When they left it was still again all around them. The snow was a heavy white blanket that muffled all the sounds. They stayed in more and more.

 

One afternoon somewhere past the middle of winter but before any sign of melting Geralt couldn’t locate Eskel anywhere in the keep. The snow was still deep outside the yard so he doubted he would have ventured out but he did find fresh footsteps in the snow. He followed them and it didn’t take him long to realize where Eskel was going to be.

As he approached the place where they had laid Vesemir to rest on a pyre he could smell the waft of vodka. Eskel was sitting on his haunches staring off at the horizon. He gripped the mostly empty bottle tightly in his hands.

“Hey.” Geralt said softly as he walked up behind him. He didn’t want to startle a drunk, upset, armed, witcher. Dropping to his knees behind Eskel he leaned up against his back and wrapped his arms around him. Eskel laid his head back onto Geralt’s shoulder and starred sightlessly up at the sky. His eyes were filled with unshed tears.

“Hey. Hey, I got you.” Geralt pressed his warm lips into the tight scars on Eskel’s forehead, they felt cold under his mouth. Geralt rocked him back and kissed the scars again. “Hey, Eskel I am here.”

The bottle slid from Eskel’s hands and he grabbed onto Geralt’s arm encircling him instead. He turned his face into Geralt’s neck and closed his eyes. His breath was deep and ragged, “I told you I might be miserable.” Geralt could feel warm tears sliding down his neck.

“And I told you I would be here to help you.” Geralt continued to rock Eskel through his muffled sobs. They sat like that for a long time, until the cold was seeping in too deep and Eskel’s body was shaking more from cold than tears. Geralt helped him up then and carried him piggyback to the keep. He stripped Eskel down on the bed and covered him in furs and blankets. He pressed a vial of white honey to Eskel’s lips to avoid the raging hangover that would follow this otherwise.

Geralt hauled clean water up from the well and fill the tub for when Eskel got up before removing his own clothes and getting into the bed, draping himself over Eskel’s body to help him warm up. For a long time Geralt didn’t rest, he ran his fingers though Eskel’s hair, scratched his scalp, massaged the warmth back into his scarred face, kissed his ear, and told him he cared. Reminded him that he was there. Only when Eskel’s breathing was deep and peaceful, his eyes closed in true sleep, did Geralt sleep as well.

 

In the morning when Geralt felt Eskel move beneath him he woke up and continued where he left off carding his fingers through Eskel’s hair, kissing his ear.

“You want a bath? I got fresh water.”

“Sure.” Eskel sounded alright, but still not happy. Geralt got up and stood naked while he warmed the water with his fingers. Then he motioned for Eskel to join him as he got in. He sat Eskel in front of him and washed his hair and his body, even his fingers and toes. Eskel finally leaned back against his chest and relaxed in the heat.

“It bothers me.”

“Something particular bother you about it?” Geralt prompted. He was searching Eskel’s face for clues but Eskel’s face was blank and his eyes closed as he talked.

“That I can’t control some things.”

“Mmm,” Geralt wasn’t certain where this was going or how it related to Vesemir’s death. Eskel was talking though so he wasn’t about to discourage him.

“When I am in control, I can handle things. I can make things good, or at least okay,” he continued.

“Alright,” made sense Eskel did like to be in control- of himself, his emotions, situations.

“Some things I can’t control though- destiny, death - those always end badly. Like with Deidre and Vesemir.”

“No one can control destiny or death Eskel.”

Eskel sighed heavily, “I know…” he trailed off. After several long moments of silence leaning against Geralt in the hot water he started again, “I just wish every time things were out of my control didn’t end with blood.”

“MmHmm.” Geralt could truly understand that sentiment. He’d been down that road many times with Ciri, with various kings, hell even random farmers. He bent his head and kissed the junction of Eskel’s neck and shoulder. He suspected that was why he got off so hard on letting Eskel be the one in control in bed, because he didn’t have to worry about making everything turn out okay, Eskel did it for him. Which gave him an idea.

“What if you let yourself lose control with me, Eskel?” He mouthed the ear on the scarred side of Eskel’s face as he asked, “Could that be a pleasant experience for you?”

Eskel tensed up almost imperceptibly in his arms. “I… don’t know if I could,” he replied honestly. “I get off on taking care of my lovers.”

“I trust you to keep me safe and make me feel good when I have no control, letting go to you brings me this amazing peace of mind. I want to try giving you that, even if its only once.” Geralt really liked the idea now that he had thought of it.

“What if I hate it?” Eskel was still tightening up in his arms more and more, while Geralt was nipping and kissing his neck.

“Then you tell me to stop and I do. I can always tell you ‘Novigrad’ but I never do.” Geralt felt the tension loosen at that. Eskel would have an out, ultimately he’d still have the last say.

“You can’t tie me up, not like I do you where you really can’t get out.” Eskel felt like there needed to be some hard lines and he needed to maintain at least _some_ control.

“Alright, don’t need to do that.”

“S’pose if you really think it’ll feel good to lose control… you end up bleedin’ its on you though.”

 

Eskel had wanted to get it over with right then, but Geralt vetoed that. He was forced to eat dinner first, carry on their usual chores of caring for the animals, kitchen, laundry and so forth. He’d nearly forgotten Geralt’s plan when they headed up to their room for bed later than night. When he walked into the room and Geralt turned on him and asked him to strip though it came flying back at him with a vengeance.

“You want me to strip? What if I’m cold an’ wanna sleep in my shirt tonight?” Eskel prodded back at him half smiled quirked on his face.

“The longer it takes you to get naked the longer it will be before you get to cum.” Geralt deadpanned back.

“You wouldn’t seriously make me wait.” The idea intrigued him though and he felt himself getting warm.

“You’re waiting an extra quarter bell as of now,” Geralt’s face was unreadable.

Oh hells, Eskel was not used to this at all. He worked the buckles in his chest piece open and shucked it off, hustling though the rest of his items, until he stool nude facing Geralt in the light of the large fireplace. His legs, groin, and abdomen had that warm tingly feeling that told him maybe this wouldn’t be entirely as bad as he anticipated.

“Sit on the edge of the bed.” Eskel did as he was asked, sitting hands at his sides. Geralt approached him, untying the leather strip that held up part of his hair. He walked up in between Eskel’s legs and leaned down to press his lips to Eskel’s, parting them and delving in. He held Eskel’s head as he explored his mouth, sucking in the scarred lip to tug at it before pulling away and dropping to his knees. Eskel closed his eyes and waited for the hot wetness of Geralt’s mouth to engulf him.

It didn’t though, instead he felt Geralt gently lift his sac and draw it away from his body slightly, then felt something draw tight around the top of it. He drew in a deep breath and his eyes popped open as he looked down to see Geralt neatly tying a slip knot in the leather strip from his hair, it was wrapped snugly around his sac in between his balls and his body.

“Not too tight?” Geralt asked, he knew Eskel’s tugged them to slow himself down but he definitely did not want to cause pain here.

Eskel was still staring wide-eyed at his own crotch. “Uh,no,” he swallowed and closed his eyes and his cock twitched against the feeling, “no, s’good.” He felt Geralt get up, heard him moved away and the trunk at the foot of the bed open and close. Then he felt the bed behind him sink with Geralt’s weight and a hot breath on his shoulder. Soft linen covered his eyes and was pulled tight before Geralt tied it behind him. He opened his eyes but all he could see was the diffuse red of the blindfold and then Geralt was pulling him back onto the bed.

“Turn over and put your hands on the headboard.” Geralt ordered, “I won’t tie you but if you take your hands off, or say ‘Novigrad’ I will stop.”

Eskel did as he was bid. He was shocked at how his own heart thudded in his chest. He could easily turn and get up, or take off his own blindfold, but it would mean no sex tonight and right now that wasn’t worth it. Secretly he didn’t want to disappoint Geralt either. He gripped the headboard lightly laying his arms along it, he was on his knees and Geralt was behind him now. He rested his head against his arms on the headboard.

Eskel jumped when he felt oil drizzle on his spine. It started at the base of his neck and trailed down, down, down. Until it was even running into the cleft between his cheeks.

“Geralt.” There was a bit of growl to his voice, he didn’t let men take him, Geralt knew that. Nothing had changed that.

“Eskel.” Geralt’s hands started at the divots in his back above his hips and slid up to his shoulders, spreading the oil around. Then came down to his cheeks and rubbed it in to those muscled globes. Eskel growled at that and Geralt responded with a sharp smack on his right cheek.

“What the fuck?!” Eskel promptly forgot that he was upset about Geralt fondling his ass and was now irritated he’d been spanked. Like a child. Worse his traitorous cock was swelling at the sting it left behind and that left him all sorts of confused.

“You,” Geralt continued to massage his way back up to his neck, “need to relax.”

“M’ relaxed.” He argued back as Geralt fingered the tight muscles along his spine on the way back down. Geralt landed a prompt smack on the other cheek, not hard just enough to sting for a bit.

“Fuck!” There was no question in Eskel’s voice this time, it was more statement, and his cock bobbed between his legs again. Geralt squeezed his glutes digging the heel of his hand into one as his other hand wandered around the front of Eskel’s hip to give his cock a oily stroke. Eskel merely grunted deeply in response. Gods be damned if he was gonna give Geralt the satisfaction of making him yelp every time he touched him. Instead he concentrated on his other senses that he wasn’t deprived of. Listening intently, trying to anticipate Geralt’s next move.

Geralt stroked him lazily, like Eskel kissed, all the while digging his palm into the tight muscle of his ass. Draping over Eskel he found Eskel’s protruding scapula jutting out from his back as he held himself tense and he mouthed at it. Eskel let out a deep breath not realizing how rigid he had been, he willed his body to soften. It obeyed marginally, and Geralt murmured to him as his hand left his cock and splayed low across Eskel’s belly, slick fingers teasing there.

Both hands moved to his legs rubbing circles around the tight muscles there. Thumbs pressing into his hamstrings making them sing with delight. Eskel felt himself giving in to the massage and relaxing. His back bowing and sinking lower to the bed even as his arms slid off the headboard, yet his hands retained their grip there lightly. His ass sprawled obscenely in the air. He groaned when Geralt pressed hard on his calves making the muscles there twitch rapidly before they released. Geralt shuffled and Eskel spread his knees slightly more to give him more room to work. Then those magical fingers were pressing roughly into his feet, making his toes curl. Gods it was good. Deep pointed presses followed by broad wide strokes, finished off with a thorough stretch to ward off a foot cramp. Geralt was working his way back up Eskel’s calves again, one hand on each leg and Eskel was mumbling how good it felt to himself. Geralt knew he was truly relaxing then. His legs were spread, knees apart on the bed, back low and sagging, hands gripping the headboard tighter than originally, his head hanging loosing from his shoulders. His breathing was deep and even.

Geralt reached between Eskel’s legs from behind to stroke him with one hand again and his breath caught in his throat. Using his other hand he gently pulled Eskel’s sac back and licked a strip from bottom to top, stopping just over that sensitive skin behind it.

“F’king hells.” Eskel tried to push into his hand and escape his mouth.

Geralt licked him again, he’d known Eskel would be skittish about this, and he didn’t want to push to far too fast, but he did want to push Eskel to let go and that wouldn’t happen unless Eskel felt out of control. He knew Eskel would fast feel out of control if he pushed this boundary. When Eskel was grunting and thrusting into Geralt’s hand he licked him a third time all the way from the bottom of his sac to the edge of his furl.

“Uhgn! NO. I…” Eskel’s breathing was jagged and aroused, “I don’t… want that.” He panted out.

“You have a word.” Geralt said softly, moving his hands to hold Eskel’s cheeks apart slightly and rest his head on one waiting for a response. He could see Eskel’s pucker pulsing and tightening frantically at the thoughts racing through his mind. “One word and I’ll stop.”

Eskel’s heart was frenetically thumping away in his chest, he felt like he could barely talk for the need to breath. He never let other men do these things to him, ever. He’d touched himself once or twice out of curiosity and it hadn’t felt amazing, it wasn’t something he felt he would enjoy. He enjoyed taking, feeling a man or woman all around him. Geralt was pushing him, shoving hard at the boundary line he had drawn, and he was falling. He trusted Geralt with all his being, Geralt would never insist if he didn’t like it, and if he was really honest the startling heat of Geralt’s tongue so close was pretty arousing right now. He was so hard, yet unable to cum, anything might be arousing at the moment he thought. He could feel Geralt’s hot breath prickling over his skin there.

“Eskel?” Geralt’s voice broke into his mind and prodded at his thoughts. Fuck, he could always stop it if he hated it, it wasn’t like he’d wanted this, it wasn’t the same, he could let Geralt enjoy this. And if he liked it only Geralt would know.

“M’okay,” he shuddered out. “Jus’… go slow?” Oh gods save him.

“It’ll be good, I promise.” Geralt spread him in earnest then, burying his face and tried to imagine he was kissing Eskel’s tight bud in the same way Eskel loved to kiss his own mouth. Little kisses pressed to the sides, small licks, tiny nibbles with no real teeth to them, He delved his tongue at Eskel tenderly and ran the backs of his knuckles down the backs of Eskel’s thighs.

And Eskel yelled. “F’CK, Oh gods! Geralt…” He sounded wrecked, his hips pressing into the air in front of him and then back at Geralt’s mouth. “PLEASE.” Geralt continued to slowly and methodically take him apart and open him up. He thought he heard a sob when his tongue finally breached Eskel’s sweet fiery heat. Eskel was shuddering under his hands. He stayed still a moment to let him feel it, let it get slick before lapping again and moving away.

Now he definitely heard sob, “No, no, don’t stop now, I need…” Eskel was gasping for air, “need to cum, please.”

Geralt turned over on the bed and laid his head between Eskel’s legs scooting up under his hips spreading Eskel’s legs wide over his head. He pulled Eskel’s feet back up so they rested just next to his own chest leaving Eskel’s knees spread wide. He coated his middle finger in oil and then urged Eskel’s hips down towards his face.

“You’re gonna lose control for me now.” Geralt stated calmly and Eskel wondered how. He already felt so out of control, gods he let Geralt tongue him open, he was begging for release. He felt the smooth heat of Geralt’s mouth on his throbbing stiffness and he wished he could come. His balls felt so tight below the leather tie.

“Please.” Eskel begged.

Geralt sucked him to the tip and then licked it, placing a kiss in the crook of his groin where his cock met his thigh.

“Ah but your smart mouth earned you an extra quarter bell, starting now.” He trailed his kisses from the base of Eskel’s thick cock back up to the tip before engulfing the head again.

“Oh hells,” Eskel tried to hang onto his breathing, “but I…” All his thoughts were cut off by the feeling of Geralt's slick finger running up and down over his clenching furl. “Geralt! I don’t!” He thrust his hips forward to escape that smooth caress and only succeeded in sinking himself all the way into the waiting tightness of Geralt’s throat, but still the finger followed him, rubbing gently up and down over him.

“UGH,” shit Eskel thought to himself what was wrong with him, this felt too good. “Fuck Geralt, PLEASE!” It wasn’t even much of a stretch when Geralt slipped his finger in but Eskel swore his whole body was shaking with it. He felt so utterly open. His chest heaved as he swallowed at the air. Eskel knew he was crying, he could feel the silent tears falling down on his own face only to be caught in the red blindfold. Not from anger or sadness this time though, he was just so completely overwhelmed.

He felt Geralt move under him and remembered he was still lodged in his lover’s throat. He pulled back, letting Geralt breath deeply through his nose. Geralt swallowed around him and thrust his finger, slowly working it deeper until it was as deep as he could reach before crooking it forward.

White points sparkled in Eskel’s vision and his mouth opened in a silent scream that gradually morphed into a deep guttural groan. He sank his hips and thrust back into Geralt’s throat.

“G’UGH” Geralt massaged that knot of nerve lightly and Eskel thrust over and over again into his mouth, slipping into and out of his throat. Geralt did his best to breath through it each time Eskel pulled back and not break his pace. Eskel laid over him hips spread wide and humped his face like a lost man, groaning and growling, swearing and clenching on Geralt’s finger.

After a short while Eskel’s tirade had turned to mostly incoherent grunts and mewling “please, Geralt’s, please”- his thrusting losing rhythm no matter how hard he tried not to. Geralt pulled at the loose end of his leather hair tie and cupped Eskel’s balls.

“GODS YES Geralt… I… I love you.” Eskel was emptying down his throat and Geralt did his best to swallow him down as he gently removed his finger.

Eskel lifted his hips just enough to let himself slip out of Geralt’s mouth and let Geralt slide down the bed before collapsing face down and then drawing himself into fetal position. Geralt pulled the furs up around him and spooned behind him. He removed the blindfold. Running his fingers through Eskel’s hair he whispereed to him how good he was, that he loved him, that every thing was alright, and that he’d always be there.

It was a long time before Eskel’s heart and lungs calmed down, and even longer before his brain came to terms with how he felt. He’d never felt so out of control outside of a fight gone wrong in his life. No one was bleeding though, it hadn’t been a fight, nothing had gone wrong. He felt at peace, just like Geralt had described. He wasn’t sure if that bothered him or not. He thought it might have if it had been anyone but Geralt, but then he’d never have kept his hands there for anyone else and he knew it. He loved the man and trusted him. In the end he decided it didn’t bother him to find peace at Geralt’s hands. He rarely needed it, he was nearly always at peace on his own, but if he ever needed it again he knew he could ask.

Eskel reached up to take Geralt’s hand and intertwine their fingers. “Thankyou.” He kissed the hand.

“You’re welcome. Feel better?” Geralt asked.

“Mmhmm. Don’t get attached to my ass though.” Eskel laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated long and hard how dom!Eskel might feel about this chapter.... I think he needed it in order to lose control but he never would have let Geralt get away more than this (at least not at this point) so it was scaled back from a full switch to just a taste of what being on bottom might be for him. Hope it doesn't ruin your love of dom!Eskel and if it did, oops sorry!


	10. Only in Toussaint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every step Roach took jostled Geralt as he made his way towards Toussaint. He was stiff in his saddle- his ass tender, his butt cheek felt bruised, and his armor was chaffing against several overly sensitive spots. He smiled. Geralt wasn’t sure which somewhat uncomfortable part of himself he was most happy with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It grew by a chapter again damnit. Also this is a really long chapter sorry o.O B+W is a lot to cover.
> 
> Still no beta reader so if you see something say something and pardon my love of long sentences and comas. I try, I really do!

Every step Roach took jostled Geralt as he made his way towards Toussaint. He was stiff in his saddle- his ass tender, his butt cheek felt bruised, and his armor was chaffing against several overly sensitive spots. He smiled. Geralt wasn’t sure which somewhat uncomfortable part of himself he was most happy with. He was definitely happy he wouldn’t be forgetting Eskel anytime soon, because every bump served as a happy if slightly sore reminder. They’d spent the night camped outside of Rivia before parting ways so Geralt could meet up with some knights. Eskel for whatever reason had been particularly intent on leaving Geralt with some things to remember him by. He’d made love to him long and languid after dinner, sucking and biting deep purple marks onto his neck and chest, that would never last long enough with a witcher’s healing. Then again, in the middle of the night he’d woken him and fucked him solidly, almost roughly, pinning Geralt onto their bedrolls underneath him, thrusting into him long after Geralt had already spent and his nerves felt like they were on fire. When Eskel finally came deep inside of him with a shudder he was panting and repeating possessive things in Geralt’s ear. Then Eskel was kissing down his spine reverently, down to his tail bone, and when Geralt felt so relaxed and dazed coming down off his high he was startled by Eskel _biting_ his ass cheek. He’d cussed and tried to reign in his confusion as Eskel almost giggled to himself and kissed the deep red mark where the dents of his teeth still were.

“Now anyone who sees this will know you’re taken at least for a few days.”

 

Eskel was not thrilled with the idea of traveling south to Beauclair, or the idea of Geralt taking a contract from nobility in general. Contracts from kings and high nobles only ever wrought trouble in Eskel’s opinion. Eskel would go along nevertheless, working his way south, taking work as it came like always on The Path, a little to the side of Geralt then meeting him in the middle when time permitted. They had whittled away a long winter and needed to get back into the swing of things. It was spring after all.

Eskel had found it hard to let Geralt go in Rivia though. He didn’t like the sinking feeling he got from this ‘Beast of Beauclair’ contract. He knew as well as Geralt that sometimes men, or women, were as much or more the ‘beast’ than any monster could be, and Toussaint had a reputation for politics to rival none save perhaps Nilfgaard. Eskel didn’t relish the thought of working in Toussaint himself even on small contracts simply because it was known amongst witchers as a bit of a hotbed for vampires of all forms. A few ekimmaras he didn’t mind, maybe even a fleder or two was a good work out, but alps and bruxae he could do without. So he had told Geralt that they would part ways at Rivia and he would head back up to Vengerberg to find work there for a while before traveling to meet up with him in Toussaint in around three weeks. The Beauclair contract was a big one and he wanted Geralt to have time to wrap it up before he showed up and caused any distraction as well as limiting his own time dallying in the city of knights and ladies. It just really wasn’t his thing. Three or more weeks away from Geralt was a long long time though, especially after spending the recent winter so close it was practically domestic. Maybe Eskel didn’t have the words to explain that outright but he had no lack of passion. He’d let that bleed through into his last night with Geralt in Rivia, and judging by the moans and then the startled yelp his bite had gotten out of his lover, he’d be feeling it for at least a little while. And that at least brought a half smirk to Eskel’s lips as he rode north.

 

The sun was setting low in the sky, the two knights he was traveling with- Palmerin and Milton- would want to make camp soon. It would be a day or two at most before they would reach the Duchy’s borders and from there just a half days ride at most to the capital city Beauclair. He’d met up with them again in Spalla as he’d promised them in the Stonecutter’s Settlement after he’d listened to their ridiculously long winded monotonous plea for assistance from one Anna Henrietta. They would have rode with him all the way south if they could, to ensure his arrival to Her Illustrious Grace themselves but he was a free man and so when he insisted he had other work to do as well along the way they finally caved. He’d kept his word too, after working the Path south to Rivia he had indeed met up with them at the inn and the three of them had set out for Beauclair.

They made camp that night and the knights watched him curiously as he sat on his heels preparing to meditate.

“Meditation, calms the mind. Witchers don’t have to sleep the same way normal humans do.” Geralt elaborated to enlighten their obvious curiosity. He left out the bit where he was still prone to some rather intense dreams of Eskel when sleeping without him around, something he’d discovered since leaving Kaer Morhen this spring. And while dreaming about Eskel doing dirty and lovely things to him no longer disturbed him in the least, he did not want to have to explain moaning out the other witcher’s name in his sleep to two knights of the realm.

“Interesting,” Palmerin responded from where he was prepping his bedroll. “We don’t see many witchers in the south so most of what we think we know is rumor. Forgive our rudeness if we seem interested.”

“Mmm, not rude. Just might not be used to people finding me interesting instead of frightening.” Geralt tried to keep a neutral face, then he started to zone out watching the flames dancing in the fire, evening his breathing.

The next day they rode all day, stopping only to rest and water their mounts. Geralt was kind of sad to note that the ache in his backside, and the deep bruised feeling on his cheek was rapidly fading, soon to be gone. He missed Eskel already and it hadn’t even been half a week, three was going to be torturous. He wanted foolishly to hole up in Kaer Morhen forever and just live, with Eskel by his side. Of course he’d get bored, and they’d go broke, and the keep was falling apart and full of holes (which Lambert was always quick to point out) but damn it, the idea sounded good. He wanted to have Eskel around again like it was in winter, and it was only spring now.

They stopped for the night at The Silver Salamander Inn, inside Toussaint’s borders at last. Sir Milton and Sir Palmerin inquired about any updates from the local guards before turning in for the night. Geralt took the opportunity of a room and bed to himself not only to sleep again, but to take the edge off by teasing himself open with his fingers and leisurely jerking himself to thoughts of it being Eskel’s strong hands instead. Masturbation had taken on an entirely new scope for him in the last half year since Eskel had opened his eyes to new pleasures. He slept deeply, dreaming off and on about Eskel’s hands on him and his fingers in him. He felt better in the morning, but he still missed Eskel. He passed by the mirror on his way out of the room and noticed the scraggly four day old growth and rolled his eyes at himself. _Ah fuck it_ , he decided three weeks was a long time. Eskel would just have to shave a beard off of him again. It would only lead to great sex anyway.

 

They found the next victim in the river, at least thats what the knights reported to him. The body had been moved already. He dove for any remaining clues then met up with his temporary boss. He’d decided he could stay at The Cockatrice Inn until Duchess Anna Henrietta informed him she’d be giving him a _gods damned_ vineyard. One that currently housed said body.

When he went to check out the body, he found it also housed a bruxae, at least until he killed it. The Duchess turned out to be a little crazy and more than a little bossy, and a year ago he probably would have found that combination incredibly attractive. Now though compared to Eskel’s calm controlled demeanor that granted Geralt both respect when he deserved it _and_ guidance he asked for it, he only found it horrifically childish and annoying.

He managed though. Despited the Duchess interjecting herself into the fray he did manage to figure out how to get the horn off the ‘unicorn’ and the golden carp. Geralt did not manage to get to the next victim in time though.

He was shocked to find out that his old friend Regis was alive. More so to find out that he knew the so-called beast. A tiny bit concerned that Regis thought that the beast and him were “very similar” in some respects. But then some men were monsters, and some monsters were men, Geralt knew this, and he would be kidding himself if he didn’t think The Butcher of Blaviken hadn’t been monstrous a time or two when he felt that it was warranted. Acting on his own moral code didn’t exactly make it right by everyone else’s mind either.

The deeper he dug the more clear that point of view became. While Detlaff’s actions were certainly warranted in his own mind, they remained horrific and fresh in the minds of the Beauclairoise. There was no clear way out either, no distinct right or wrong answer. It was plain that the vampire wasn’t the real beast, a regular human was, but as a tool Detlaff was so incredibly deadly it was hard to allow his actions even under duress to go unpunished.

In the end people died, so so many people died. The Duchess in her infinite wisdom had butted in again, and that caused more death than what was rightly necessary. Regis and Geralt did what they thought was right, which caused more harm than intended and brought another death.

And then Geralt ended up in prison.

 

As Eskel was making good time as Scorpion cantered along the road into Toussaint. He intended to ride well past dark if he had to in order to make it to Beauclair where he could begin to find Geralt’s recent trail. He didn’t have to go nearly that far though before he started to feel the nervous tension of the kingdom, more so than usual. After a few short inquiries about recent events he’d already got a lead on Geralt’s exact whereabouts and it sent a chill down his bones in a way he had never felt before.

“Gods damn it all!” He cursed to himself as he whipped Scorpion’s reins around and rode out of the trading post. He was pushing his mount hard and he didn’t even know what he intended to do when he got to the prison. Only that he wasn’t going to let Geralt rot in there and that he sure as seven hells wasn’t going to let them execute him.

At Flovive Scorpian planted his hooves and almost threw Eskel.

“Scorp, what the HELL?!” Eskel was so distracted at this point by thoughts of Geralt in prison, possibly being tortured, awaiting sentencing, of possible execution… that it had slipped his mind that the Kaedweni stallion was so thoroughly trained and loyal that he wouldn’t have halted so rapidly if he had not sensed something he perceived as a real danger.

Once he calmed his raging heartbeat, though and took stock he noticed the unnatural looking gray mist curling up the empty central road towards him. He quickly dismounted and drew his silver sword, slapping Scorpion on the flank to send him away to safety. The mist swirled up in front of him and solidified into… an old man.

Heart slowing down and breath evening out, ready for a fight, Eskel leaned onto his toes. He didn’t know what this thing was but it wasn’t human.

“Forgive me, Master Witcher. It is not my intent to startle you, only to provide you news and peace of mind if, that is, you will allow me to. I apologize I should introduce myself. My name is Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy and I am a dear old friend of Geralt’s, but you may call me Regis. I assume that you are Eskel?”

Eskel didn’t fall out of his stance while he took a minute to process the mouthful that just fell out of the creature stand in front of him. Then as realization slowly began dawning on him he let his blade tip drop just a bit.

“A friend of Geralt’s you say?”

“Yes, indeed. I have a place nearby here. We should talk. Geralt is safe at the moment, though perhaps not as comfortable as he and we all would wish him to be. Soon though we shall see him free again I think. His good friend Dandelion is working on that rest assured. You can call your horse back if you wish its not far but I doubt you’ll want to walk the distance after traveling so far already.” Regis stated turning his back on Eskel even though he was still in a ready stance and had his sword half raised. _Stupidly trusting_ , Eskel thought, _or just fucking indestructible._ His witcher medallion hadn’t even vibrated at the mist, very few things were so powerful they could transform like that but did not set it off.

“Wait. What are you?” Eskel had to know what Geralt had gotten himself into here. “And why are we trusting Dandelion to save Geralt?”

“We are trusting Dandelion to get Geralt out of this because he is in trouble with a woman, and well, that is the bard’s specialty is it not? He risked his hide to come here to save Geralt. I admit we did try to find you one our way back but you are not an easy man to locate and we didn’t have much to go on and even less time. In the end we decided to return and work on freeing Geralt as quickly as possible and to trust that you would return to him at the agreed upon time as you had promised. That is why I was waiting here for you. As to what I am. I am exactly what you suspect, I mean you nor anyone else any harm. I have known Geralt since before Stygga and he has never found reason to take a contract on me, I hope you will feel the same.”

As Regis walked away from him down the road, Eskel slowly slid his blade home into its scabbard. He whistled for Scorpion and mounted up following behind. Gods he hadn’t realized until just then how exhausted he was.

 

Regis led him to a cemetery. Eskel shouldn’t have been surprised, he was after all a vampire. He turned Scorpion loose to graze and rest while he followed Regis into a narrow tunnel, which then emptied into a rather large crypt. Eskel leaned against an empty sarcophygus and stared at Regis.

“S’ how exactly is Dandelion getting Geralt out? Because I can’t jus’ let him sit in there.”

“He is using his unprecedented charms on the Duchess, who has always been rather fond of him, to make her see that Geralt truly meant no harm in his actions, however grave our mistakes may have been. Make no mistake Master Eskel, I know how just how important Geralt is to you, and I believe this is the fastest, safest way to ensure he is returned to you unharmed.”

“I don’t think you do exactly.” Eskel sighed rubbing his hand over his scarred face, he wished Geralt was here to rub the tension out of them, that always made him feel good. Instead he was sitting in some prison cell probably more cold and miserably tired than Eskel. He needed to get over himself and do something about it. “I can’t just _wait_.”

“As I have said I am a dear friend of Geralt’s. He is not prone to hiding things from me, nor I from him. He told me that you were to meet him in Beauclair in three weeks time. That is how I knew to have my little friends watch for your arrival. From how he talks about you I have gathered that you are his lover, more precious to him than any other has ever been, and that you return the feeling. I have a good feeling that if we allow Dandelion to finish his work Geralt will be back in your arms by dusk tomorrow. Could you do Geralt the favor of trusting his friends?” Regis’ arms were crossed over his chest and he was eyeing Eskel gauging his reaction to being laid so unexpectedly bare. Humans often were intolerant and Regis had no doubt Eskel would be surprised that he was so candid about the situation with someone he’d only just met.

“Geralt told you about me?” Eskel sounded slightly more croaky than he intended, he cleared his throat.

“Well yes, partially. He did not make a point of hiding anything, and he talked of you frequently, some things I deduced on my own. I have never seen Geralt more content. If you can wait day and give us a chance to resolve this peacefully, I promise you that if it cannot be brought to resolution that way we will storm the prison with you if need be.”

Eskel nodded, still reeling a bit from the revelation that this vampire had seen so easily through them, through him. “And this doesn’t bother you? Us I mean.”

“The south is a little more, how shall I say, accommodating of tastes. Not wholly mind you but far more than the north. And I have been around longer than Geralt and you put together, while not my preference, I’d be lying if I said I had never explored other possibilities. So no, you’ll face no judgment from me, I am glad to see Geralt happy.”

Someone could have knocked Eskel over with a feather right then. He could not believe he was having this conversation with a near stranger, in a cemetery crypt, in Toussaint. Only in fucking Toussaint.

“So you will give us a day then at least?” Regis prodded.

“Yea, I guess. If you really think that’s his best chance.” Eskel rubbed his scars again. Damn he was exhausted.

“Good. If you are anything like Geralt you will refuse to sleep, but can I at least offer you a place to toss around fitfully in some comfort? Or a soft spot to meditate? And a bit to drink of course. I have some wonderful mandrake moonshine that is sure to loosen you up a bit.”

“Uh, sure. To the moonshine,” Eskel had one eyebrow raised hesitantly at Regis’ sudden turn from serious to chatty host, “and probably the meditation spot.”

Regis was right that mandrake moonshine was strong, it burned going down and gave Eskel the warm fuzzies. He had no trouble falling into meditation after a few of those.

 

The sound of crows cawing in the distance brought Eskel out of his meditation in the early morning. He had only managed four or so hours but he did feel significantly better. His thoughts were clearer in his own head. He realized he was acutely hungry, he hadn’t eaten anything since the trading post yesterday and then had finished if off with the moonshine. His rations were in his saddlebags still with Scorpion out grazing. The same direction as the sound of the crows. Eskel did not see Regis anywhere as he headed out of the crypt and up the narrow tunnel to the cemetery. He wasn’t entirely sure of whether that meant anything or not though. So much of what witcher bestiaries had to say on higher vampires was… nothing. Most witchers who encountered them died. If what Regis had relayed over the mandrake moonshine last night was true- and Eskel had no reason to believe it was not- then Geralt had survived knowing not one but two of them. One he counted as a deep friend, who’d once helped save Ciri.

He came out into the dappled light of the forest cemetery and spied Regis standing down the hill a ways among a literal murder of crows. The cacophony of noise was loud to his enhanced ears and he tried to tune it out and he whistled for Scorpion. Retrieving his saddlebag he heard the noise dissipating behind him. He made himself comfortable on a nearby stump and dug in his pack until he found some jerky, dried fruit, and a hard roll. He devoured it, and washed it down with water. He was headed to the creek to refill his water skin when Regis approached him.

“My friends have brought me good news. It seems Anna Henrietta has seen fit to release Geralt, she will allow him to keep Corvo Bianco even. He has however forfeited his financial reward and she no longer wishes to see him ever again.” Regis gave a grim smile.

“Don’t give a shite about gold. As long as he is safe.” Eskel breathed a huge sigh of relief, “And what the hells is Corvo Bianco?”

“His winery!” Regis smiled a little too broadly revealing the smallest bit of his fangs.

“Winery? I don’t even care,” Eskel’s body was starting to catch up with his brain on proceedings, vibrating with a nervous energy, “when can I go get him?” He asked.

“I believe if we leave in about a bells time the news will have had time to reach the prison.”

“How did you know then you said your friends already told you?” Eskel was suspicious now, this news was too good.

“Ahh yes, the crows. They see and hears things, they fly faster than men walk, and straighter than the roads horses take. They come to me and they tell me these things. So I know.”

“Oh.” Eskel felt dumb, of course the crows were talking to the vampire, why else would he have been standing in the middle of the murder. Just a friendly early morning news call.

Eskel wasted the hour cleaning up and shaving. Then he cleaned his swords for good measure because he had time to kill still and he was so full of frustrated energy, anger, and relief he didn’t know what else to do with himself. When it was time they headed toward the prison with Regis leading the way and Eskel following on Scorpion at a slight distance. The stallion still wasn’t extremely comfortable around the vampire though he wasn’t as startled as he had been in Flovive either. They crossed a bridge and approached a stable with a small guardhouse. They were ordered to wait there. A lesser guard informed a slightly more important guard who they were there for, and that guard returned to tell them that Geralt was being processed out shortly and again they could wait there. So they waited. Eskel stared at the shorter bridge that led to Toussaint Prison for what felt like forever but was probably no more than another bell under the baking sun as it rose higher in the clear blue sky.

Then the gate was groaning to life, pulling slowly inexorably upwards. His heart was up in his throat and he tried hard to swallow around it but his throat felt too try at the same time. Like he might choke. He wouldn’t though. He was going to be strong right now because he knew after all this Geralt would need to not be strong for a while. He could see Geralt walking straight backed out into the open, across the bridge, looking tired and haggard in raggedy prison clothes. He could tell the second Geralt laid eyes on him, his shoulders dipping just a tiny bit in relief halfway across the bridge.

Eskel stood his ground and schooled the rage, relief, and fear from his face, leaving only his comfort and love behind. When Geralt was close enough to touch he grabbed him and pulled him in close, holding Geralt’s face in the crook of his neck, and nuzzling behind his ear.

“I love you, and I will always be here for you.” Eskel whispered.

Geralt breathed in deeply the scent of Eskel and exhaled shakily. This was not the first time he’d been thrown in a cell, and he hadn’t even been treat badly this time compared to others, but this time he had felt like there was so much more to lose. He inhaled Eskel’s scent deeply again, exhaling more steadily this time. Geralt placed a small chaste kiss on Eskel’s neck where he didn’t think the guard or anyone else could see with his long hair hair shielding his face.

“I want to get out of here.” Geralt stated bluntly.

“Of course,” Eskel loosened his grip and took a step back. “Scorpion will let you ride him.”

Geralt didn’t hesitate to swing up into the saddle and held onto the saddle horn while Eskel led Scorpion to follow Regis back to the crypt.

Once things were settled there, and Geralt had peeled off and burned his rags then swapped back into his dirty armor, he insisted that the two of them head to Corvo Bianco. Eskel was still a bit surprised to find out that Geralt was a landed witcher now. That just wasn’t a thing, but he swung up behind Geralt in the saddle and steered the stallion where Geralt indicated. It was an easy ride and Eskel let his arms settle tightly around Geralt, pulling him back against his chest, resting his head on Geralt’s shoulder. It was too close, too obvious were anyone to see them but he didn’t care, and Geralt wasn’t pushing himself away either.

 

The vineyard was beautiful, the smells that assaulted Eskel’s nose were actually quite pleasant compared to the usual city and farm odors. They stabled Scorpion next to Roach and the two seemed exceedingly happy to be back together. Geralt led him up to the main house.

“Sir, I am most glad to see the Duchess came to her senses.” Barnabas-Basil greeted Geralt.

“Barnabas. Yea, me too. I’m glad to be home, hopefully everything is still alright?”

“Of course sir. The vineyard is running smoothly as ever, the garden renovation was completed in your absence if you wish to go over it.”

“Later perhaps. Barnabas, this is Eskel. He will be living here too. I want you and the staff to all treat him as if he were me alright?”

“Of course sir, anything you wish. Shall I prepare the guest room, or will he be staying with you?” Eskel could swear there was a tiny upturn on that man’s mouth at the question but it was almost impossible to tell what he was thinking behind his damned glasses. Geralt looked like he was choking on his own tongue.

“We’ll be sharing, but thanks.” Eskel chimed in. No point in hiding it in Geralt’s own home. All of gods-damned Toussaint seemed to be seeing right through them anyway.

“Will there be anything else sirs?”

“Barnabas right?” Eskel felt like he had to treat the staff here with the utmost respect, Kaer Morhen never had staff, only teachers and students.

“Yes sir, at your service.”

“I think a bath and a tray of real food would do Geralt some wonders if that could be arranged, please.”

“Absolutely! A sound idea sir, I will have a bath filled and Marlene prepare a spread for the both of you.” Barnabas bowed before heading towards the kitchen door.

“Thank you.” Eskel called after him.

“I think he likes you.” Geralt elbowed Eskel lightly in the ribs trying his best to smile through his exhaustion.

“C’mon old man, soak, shave, real bed, real food, then nap. Which way is your room?” Eskel drew Geralt’s arm over his shoulder to help him along even though he was still capable of walking unassisted.

“ _Our_ room is that door right there.”

 

Two of the vineyard workers took turns bringing in buckets of water filling a smallish tub which fit in the corner of the room while Geralt laid on the bed resting. Eskel retrieved his saddle bags and brought them in, settling a few of his things around the room. His shaving kit on the dresser and some clothes in it. The rest he left in the bags which he hung from the end of the bed. He didn’t really know how long he would stay here yet. He knew Geralt welcomed him, he just wasn’t at ease in Toussaint in general. Their habit of seeing through him wasn’t helping that. Shortly a large board of food was brought in, cold meats, cheeses, several fruits, duck pate, olives, and more than one type of bread. There were even oils and seasonings to dip it all in. A bottle of good wine and glasses accompanied it.

When the tub was full he heated it until it was just shy of too hot. He shucked his own armor before he proceeded to assist Geralt in disrobing from his. Eskel guided Geralt to the tub watching as he hissed climbing into the heat. He let Geralt get settled sitting on the bottom before urging him to dunk his head. Eskel washed his hair, letting the dirt sift out of it as the suds washed away. Then he washed it again for good measure. Once that was clean Eskel nudged him forward and climbed in behind him razor and soap in hand. He soaped up Geralt’s overgrown beard, tilting his head back to rest in the crook between his neck and shoulder before going to work with his razor. It came off in short swathes, until there was nothing left but a clean face. Eskel kissed Geralt’s cheek lightly. He let the folded razor clatter to the floor outside the tub.

Eskel soaped Geralt from neck to toes then, with Geralt standing up to help him. He sat back down to rinse it all off. The water was gray with dirt when Eskel began washing himself. Geralt stepped out while he did so, toweling dry, and then collapsing on the bed sideways and still naked. Eskel dried himself before carrying the food tray over to the bed. He hadn’t bothered with any clothing.

“Scoot up.” Eskel nodded towards the head of the bed.

Geralt made a noncommittal noise as he righted himself on the bed and moved towards the head sitting up against the headboard. Eskel sat next to him and placed the food on the bed. He placed meat and cheese on bread, dipped it in oil and holding it out to Geralt.

They ate like that, naked on the bed, Eskel making little sandwiches and other things for Geralt and handing them off to him, until the whole tray was empty. They washed it down with some wine but not as much as they might have on another day. Eskel removed the tray then and lifted the covers on the bed to get under. Geralt joined him there.

Eskel was slow, maybe even hesitant in bringing his lips to Geralt’s. His kisses were chaste, lips only, dry and soft on the edge of Geralt’s mouth.

“S’this okay?”

“Of course it is, Eskel. Why would it not be?” Geralt was a little confused by the slowness, the hesitancy. He craved Eskel, couldn’t wait to be wrapped up in him, feel him on his skin, inside him.

“Mmm,” Eskel hummed against his mouth, “you’ve been through a lot. Sometimes that means you really need touch, not sex.” Eskel was snuggling his body up close to Geralt’s and Geralt could feel Eskel’s half-arousal. “But then I’ve been through some too, and I need to show you…” Eskel trailed off still kissing Geralt’s lips lightly, “show you what you mean to me. I wanna take you. Tryin’ to balance that out.”

“Gods, Eskel, I need you. Do whatever you want to me.” Geralt breathed the words back over Eskel’s mouth.

“Won’t be fast.” Eskel stated, settling his hand low on Geralt’s back pulling him close as he rolled his hips against him.

Geralt moaned, hooking his leg over Eskel’s’ hips to seek more contact, but Eskel rolled them. Geralt ended up on his back, Eskel’s hips pressed firmly against his preventing his movement. Eskel was holding his upper body up with one arm braced next to Geralt’s head, weaving the fingers of his other hand into Geralt’s still damp white hair. Eskel was growing harder, nestled in the nook of Geralt’s groin, holding him in place. He bent his head to capture the corner of Geralt’s lip gently between his own. He let his fingers work patterns on Geralt’s scalp through his hair.

“Eskel, please.” Geralt begged trying and failing to buck his hips up.

“No.” Eskel moved to kiss his eyelids marveling at how Geralt fluttered them closed for him. “Not this time. Gonna be slow.” He moved from the left eye to the right. “Gonna be sweet.”

A smiled curved on Geralt’s lips, “You’re always sweet to me.”

“Mmm,” Eskel moved to kiss his cheek, “not like this.”

Eskel let the hand in Geralt’s hair trail down, squeezing at the muscles in his neck lightly, thumbing over his artery. It followed a path down to his pectoral where he scratched delicately over the muscle there with all four of his blunt fingernails, the drag stopping just short of Geralt’s pale nipple once, twice, three times, until Geralt moaned loudly against his kiss. Eskel took advantage of the moan to delve into Geralt’s mouth and explore. He loved the way noises rumbled out of Geralt’s throat into his mouth with each slow grind of his hips, both of them heady from the delicious friction. How he could feel the sharp inhale Geralt took through his nose when he unexpectedly pinched that neglected nipple.

When Eskel finally pulled away from kissing Geralt to look down at him he is satisfied to see Geralt’s chest heaving, one side with faint pink marks from his hand. He rolled just a little onto his arm giving his other hand room to roam. He caressed first Geralt’s face again, watching him press up into the touch. Then down his neck and chest, featherlight with the back of his hand. He made sure to coast over that pec and nipple that are certain to be sensitive as hell right now, reveling in the way Geralt arched his back up to meet the graze, holding his breath. Then down, lower than before, over his abs and his scars. His thumb said hello to each one with a brush before it greeted his hipbone with a squeeze that said irrevocably you’re mine. The groans, moans, and huffs of breath he heard along the way were music to Eskel’s ears.

Eskel could almost watch this forever. He had other ideas though. He lowered his head back down nuzzling behind Geralt’s ear.

“Where’s the oil?” Eskel tugged at Geralt’s ear gently with his lips. When he got no response Eskel rose back up to see Geralt’s chest was still heaving, his eyes deep golden and glassy, staring up at the ceiling.

It’s the back of Eskel’s knuckles skating up the only exposed side of Geralt’s cock underneath Eskel’s hips that pulled Geralt’s eyes back to him.

“Fu..uck.” Geralt stuttered out, “Eskel.”

“I said, where’s the oil?” Eskel couldn’t help but grin, letting it distort his scarred face even. He wasn’t even spreading him open yet and he was already half lost.

Geralt let his right arm fall outward on the bed towards a chest pointing with his hand, “there.”

Eskel grazed his cock with the back of his knuckles again just to hear him moan and feel him shudder before pushing up and going to the trunk. It took him a minute or two but he did find some oil that was not designed to help kill draconids or vampires. He returned to the bed to see Geralt palming himself in a bid for relief. He looked like he had regained some measure of composure.

“Uh, uh, uh, hands to yourself pretty boy.” Eskel chided him.

“I, am _not_ , a pretty boy.” Geralt shot back at him. “Not even close to young enough to be a boy.”

Eskel gestured to his face with the hand not holding the oil. “Of the two of us, you definitely count as pretty.” He crawled up between Geralt’s legs pushing them wide apart to make room for himself to sit. “I’ll give you the boy part though.”

Eskel replaced Geralt’s hands with his own, but his strokes were firmer, with more intent. He worked Geralt right up to the edge and left him there. Geralt was panting and keening as Eskel opened the oil and drizzled it on his thighs, hips, and balls. Everywhere but his cock. Eskel even coated himself, giving his own cock several slow strokes while biting his lip to hold in his noises.

Thumbs pressed into Geralt’s thighs, moving the oil around. Eskel massaged deeply in an ever tightening circle, outer hips and thighs first, then inner, slowly worker closer to the center. To Geralt’s throbbing erection. Geralt was getting lost again. Eyes tracking nothing on the ceiling, breath erratic and gulping.

Eskel pulled Geralt’s legs down over his lap where he was sitting on his heels. On his final pass Eskel was using the web in between his thumb and forefinger to run from the base of Geralt’s cock to the head, milking the blood flow along the way. It throbbed under his hands, as one hand reached the head, he replaced the other and the base never losing pressure. The head of Geralt’s cock was flushed bright red against his pale stomach.

“Oh my Gods! Es…” Geralt’s head was turned to the side and he was breathing like he had just run a race.

Eskel grinned, “Love it when you look like this.”

On the next pass Eskel scooped up Geralt’s balls and gently rolled them forward, letting them settle on either side of the base of his cock.

“Hrngn!” Geralt’s tongue sounded like it was glued to the top of his mouth, words failing him. He felt like he was going to explode at any moment. The pressure in his cock was unbelievable. It felt so engorged, so flushed with blood, and yet Eskel kept steadily stroking more into it and now he was fondling his balls. Gods he could come right here and now and die happy.

Eskel ran his thumbs over Geralt’s balls, firm enough not to tickle, but not hard enough to cause any pain. Slowly he worked his way back over that sensitive strip of flesh that separated them from Geralt’s most intimate tight entrance. Pressing into the flesh there with his oiled thumbs elicited the most indecent moans from Geralt and he couldn’t help but do it several more times, massaging the area as he had his cock.

“ES… Es…” Finally his thumbs skimmed over that furl, pulled tight as it was, “Eskel! Yes, please!”

Everything was already oily and there was no need for more as Eskel let his thumbs tease over Geralt’s tightness.

“Gonna open up for me?” Eskel’s dirty question made Geralt’s heart race, he could hear it and it made him chuckle quietly. “I’ll help you.”

“Fuck. Yes.” Geralt was in a hurry, wanted this now, yesterday, last week.

Eskel was not. He wanted Geralt to feel this right now, to remember this next week, next year.

Eskel brought one of Geralt’s legs up to rest on his shoulder, holding it there with a hand over his knee. He turned his head to the side to brush kisses on the inside of Geralt’s ankle as he pressed his remaining thumb against Geralt’s sensitive bud.

Geralt cried out loudly as Eskel’s thumb found purchase, stretching him open, while his tongue swirled around the inner malleolus of his ankle. The thumb retreated as Eskel’s tongue did. Kissing his ankle gently brushing his lips over it as his thumb collected more oil where it had settled and then opening his mouth to taste the skin there again as his thumb delved back in deeper. Geralt tried to hitch his hips up to seek out more, press Eskel deeper still, using the foot on his shoulder as leverage, but Eskel’s hand on his knee controlled it. He groaned in frustration.

“Shhh. Slow tonight.” Eskel murmured against his ankle, tongue retreating again, returning to soft kisses as his tugged his thumb out. “Will you look me in the eyes?”

Geralt struggled to control the desire to pull his body against Eskel’s with his foot, but he vaguely knew it was a losing battle and Eskel was asking for something. He turned his focus back to Eskel, looking at his dark amber cat eyes. The intensity there was ferocious.

Eskel returned to his pattern mouthing over Geralt’s ankle as he stretched his rim taught on his thumb, kissing it as he receded. But he held Geralt’s gaze and that made it feel even more intense. The thumb was replaced but two blunt fingers, still oily from massaging, but wider, and their reach a little deeper. Geralt’s mouth hung open, still looking into Eskel’s eyes, watching his face as he stroked into him with his hand, but his lids were falling, failing him like every other part of his body.

When Eskel finally let his leg slide off his shoulder some time later, Geralt’s belly was a mess of precum, his cock was still flushed and red in contrast, and his balls were drawn tight around it. His heavy breathing had dropped into a deep rhythm, and his world had narrowed down to only Eskel and what Eskel wanted him to feel.

And Geralt could feel everything, his nerves were alight. Eskel’s breath ghosting over his neck as he draped himself over the top of Geralt was moist and warm. The scars on Eskel’s chest as they scraped lightly over his own when Eskel settled himself against Geralt. The tiny prickliness of each piece of Eskel’s hair as it fell forward against Geralt’s face when Eskel sucked at his neck. The heat and throb of Eskel’s flared head as it pressed against his loosened hole. In all encompassing inescapable drape of Eskel’s body as he brought his knees up on either side of Geralt’s ass and wrapped his arms under Geralt’s, behind his back and over his shoulders to grip the tops of his shoulders. The aching stretch he still felt as his body spread open for Eskel when he rolled his hips into Geralt. The drag on his rim as Eskel pulled down on his shoulders and rolled his hips again, and again, slowly seating himself further inside.

“Uhhh, huhh, huh.” Geralt was overwhelmed, his voice lost in a sea of sensations. He brought his hand up to trace his fingers down Eskel’s spine, the other gripping Eskel’s shoulder tightly. He turned his head towards Eskel, and Eskel caught his lips in a gentle kiss.

“I love you,” Eskel whispered against his mouth as he rolled his hips back dragging out, leaving emptiness in his wake.

“I know.” He felt like his chest was too full and he couldn’t breathe as Eskel thrust slowly back into him. “I love you too, Eskel.”

His cock was trapped between his abdomen and Eskel’s, slicked up by his own precum and held in that heat, it felt like he was sliding up into heaven with each roll and thrust of Eskel’s hips against him. When Eskel pulled down hard on his shoulders again it moved the angle just enough to make the spot inside him come alive with every short nudge from Eskel.

“I can’t,” Geralt panted out, “can’t hold, much longer.”

“Let go.” Eskel encouraged him, kissing him tenderly. “Cum for me. Wanna feel what I do to you.”

And Geralt did. He shatter under Eskel, wrapped up in his arms, blanketed under him, filled up with him. Spasming hotly between them while Eskel moaned at the feeling of Geralt squeezing tightly around him, shaking under him. And Eskel followed him over.

 

Despite being heavy Eskel didn’t roll off. He stayed. He held Geralt tightly as he came down, and then as he drifted off. He was still draped over him clinging to him when they woke in the morning.

Eskel stepped sheepishly out of the bedroom in a loose shirt and linen pants before breakfast to find Barnabas.

“Um, Barnabas?”

“Yes sir?

“I think we’re gonna need a refill on the tub before breakfast, if that can be done, please? We’ll heat it ourselves again.”

“Absolutely sir, and if I may make a suggestion- I know a dedicated craftsman in Beauclair who could craft for you a tub of solid hardwood and much more suitable size. It would only require a minor investment on your part.”

“Gods that would be wonderful, Barnabas. Let’s get started.” Eskel could stay here a while, even if it was Toussaint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine two more chapters past this to tie this up post blood and wine time. Some angst ahead, and warning incoming Yennefer.
> 
> Comments are very encouraging. I love them so don't hesitate to tell me what your thinking of recent chapters.
> 
> *edit* after looking at a better resolution map I discovered what I thought read Blaviken was actually Belhaven. Ooops, too late to change that whole paragraph now, if it bothers you know that I am aware my geography is off by kingdoms damnit, sorry.


	11. What Yennefer Wants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eskel found himself becoming more at ease with Toussaint. It was full of fluff and flowery, with puffy overblown customs, but no one at Corvo Bianco expected him to heed those. He found there were several good smiths in town for both armor and weapons. Even a pastry shop he could stop by for a sweet treat while shopping for herbs. As long as he didn’t spend too much time in Beauclair proper and spent more time at Corvo Bianco he found that Toussaint wasn’t lacking as a home. The weather sure beat the hell out of Kaedwen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who wants a 2 chapter week? So close to the end now!! This is a shorty but it has to be you'll see why.
> 
> Yennefer, need I say more. She's... complex with a complex.
> 
> Also no smut in this chapter, sorry, so if your only reading for steaming hot Eskel/Geralt smut I guess you can skip over this chapter. If your reading for actual story though you better not miss it or you'll be confused!
> 
> No Beta

Geralt had to hand it to Barnabas and Eskel. The tub really was a good idea. It was much roomier than the old one, with higher sides and steel bands bands holding it together so they didn’t have to worry about it falling apart during any of their antics. They could both comfortably soak in it together. The only problem was that it didn’t really fit in the bedroom, so it was parked out back surrounded by privacy wooden curtains until a minor renovation to bump out the size of the master bedroom could be completed. It was worth the wait, and the several contracts each that Eskel and him had taken on to pay for it. Now they had a huge sturdy tub in their own room, hells they could even have sex in it. Which they did, not infrequently.

Geralt was still convinced Barnabas-Basil had a sweet spot for Eskel. Eskel still would not believe it. Nor would he believe that they had a winery, a house, a stable, a garden all their own. That they didn’t have to return to Kaer Morhen next winter unless he wanted to for some reason. Some of the workers were a little on edge at having two witchers around the place. One was the Duchess’ proclivity. Two was strange, and they’d heard they didn’t even have separate rooms. Before so much as a whisper of that made it’s way to Eskel’s ears though Barnabas would have found a reason that worker was no longer required, then a new and better replacement was found. Those replacements never seemed to be bothered by the arrangement.

Marlene didn’t bat an old eye. More mouths to feed made Marlene happy, and witchers were hungrier than most. She relished keeping the kitchen stocked with foods to go in saddle bags, and was a gracious host anytime one or both of them were home for a meal. They joked with each other they would have to start sparring more or else get fat.

Eskel found himself becoming more at ease with Toussaint. It was full of fluff and flowery, with puffy overblown customs, but no one at Corvo Bianco expected him to heed those. He found there were several good smiths in town for both armor and weapons. Even a pastry shop he could stop by for a sweet treat while shopping for herbs. As long as he didn’t spend too much time in Beauclair proper and spent more time at Corvo Bianco he found that Toussaint wasn’t lacking as a home. The weather sure beat the hell out of Kaedwen.

So after a few weeks respite where Geralt regained some lost weight, and they both regained their sense of comfort by being close, they decided they had cleared up most of the small contracts Toussaint had to offer at the moment and it was time to set off again. Marlene loaded them down with far more food than was truly needed, and Barnabas saw them off in the morning, promising to keep everything in order in their absence. They planned to be gone a month at most, riding northwest toward Cintra and seeing where the Path led them.

 

Eskel rented them a room Riedbrune. Geralt had kept a hood up all the way through the woods around Blaviken. Even now that place held no joy for him. They spent the night in quiet reflection, Eskel brought stew from the inn’s kitchen up to their room for dinner. Geralt had no desire to be seen in he common areas. They rode out again before dawn and found a small contract in the next settlement. The villagers thought they had a werewolf in their forest. It was only a pack of starving wolves, that found starving people to be easy targets. Geralt took it and solved the villages problem anyway. Small payment for small service. Eskel took the time while Geralt was doing that to ride ahead and scout out other work.

And so it went from the Slopes to Dilligen. They took a few larger pieces of work, a noonwraith, and a gravehag, but mostly they did small odd and ends. The meat and potatoes of the Path. They decided to head north- Eskel to Brugge again, and Geralt to Maribor. They would meet up in the pass through the Mahakaman Mountains and ride toward Aldersberg before finally turning back south home.

 

Aldersberg is where they ran into Yennefer. Geralt could smell her before he saw her. They were drinking strong Mahakaman Ale in the Crimson Bodice watching the ladies dance and sway in much the same way they had been that night a year ago in Novigrad at the Passiflora. The significance of the timing was not lost on either of them. This time their legs touched a little too closely under the table though, and sometimes when he would lean forward Eskel would sneak a hand under the table to squeeze Geralt’s upper thigh, eyes twinkling.

The door scratched open to the side of their booth, line of site blocked by a wooden divider, and then clanked shut. They paid it no mind, entranced in their entertainment. Soon after a distinct smell crept in Geralt’s nose. Lilac and gooseberries. Fuck if that wasn’t a mood killer.

It wasn’t that Geralt didn’t want to see Yen ever again, as she wound her way around the corner a her black and white outfit came into view, long curls shifting in the low light. It was just that he would have preferred a little warning, and invitation maybe. And not tonight.

Yennefer turned around fully eyes taking in the room, a slight look of disapproval at having to enter the establishment on her face. Houses of pleasure were fine and all, but this, this was just a regular dirty brothel. She would need to wipe her feet when she left. She spotted Geralt and Eskel in the corner past the door she’d come in and immediately headed their way. Eskel seemed to register her presence finally. She was surprised to see two witchers together outside of Kaer Morhen but not that surprised since it was a brothel after all. She chose her face and words carefully.

“Geralt.” She put on a small smile, “I’ve missed you.”

“Yen. It’s been a while.”

“Yennefer.” Was all Eskel said. Yennefer merely tipped her head in acknowledgment that he was there.

“I’ll say Geralt, over a year. I came because I desperately need your help.” Admitting weakness was never a thing Yennefer liked to do, but she also knew Geralt had a thing for ladies in distress and was therefore more likely to assist her whatever his feelings towards her may currently be.

Geralt shifted in the booth sitting up. “You? You have a contract for me?”

“Is that so hard to believe Geralt? That I would seek your assistance if needed?”

Geralt mumbled something to himself that she could not quite hear over the noise of the brothel. Eskel smiled and that made Yennefer almost immediately suspicious of what he might have said.

“Mmhmm, well I thought we might see each other again as friends, but if its work I guess that’s alright too.” Geralt took one more long pull on his ale before setting and some coins down on the table pushing them towards the dancer. “But this is hardly the place to talk.” He stood up from the booth and both him and Eskel moved to make their way to the door.

 

Outside the night air was cooler than it had been in the brothel, and that served to sober Geralt a bit.

“So what is so big you need help with Yen?” Geralt asked, straight to the point.

“There have been several disappearances in Vengerberg.” She responded.

“I didn’t hear anything ‘bout missing people when I was there a few months back.” Eskel broke in.

“Just in the last month. Three times. The people have asked me to help but this is more the purview of a witcher than a sorceress, don’t you think Geralt? Something tells me this isn’t that simple though, that it will take two brilliant minds to crack this.” Yennefer sounded quite honest in her plea this time.

“Alright, so say I agree to help you with this contract. What’s in it for me?” Geralt had decided he would help her already if only for old times sake, because she had practically helped him raise Ciri in a way, and he didn’t hate her, he just didn’t love her. If he could get paid too though, that was a bonus.

“Why Geralt, you get to spend time with me, and gold of course. Half the reward.” The fastest way to a witcher’s heart was through his purse as far as Yennefer was concerned, no reason not to sweeten the deal, she didn’t need the money.

Eskel rolled his eyes elegantly Yennefer thought, much better than Ciri had ever learned to.

“Fine. I have to go get some supplies from my room first though.” Geralt also needed a moment to talk to Eskel alone and reassure him.

“Fine. Fine. Meet me by the gate in the Outskirts in half a bell?” Yennefer was in a hurry actually.

“Okay.”

 

“I want you to know I don’t feel anything for her anymore Eskel.” Geralt was holding Eskel’s scarred side of his face in his hand and looking him in the eyes.

Eskel rolled his eyes again and huffed out a laugh. “I know that Geralt.” He leaned into Geralt’s palm before kissing it. “Doesn’t mean I hafta like her, she’s prissy.”

“But it sounds like they need my help.”

“An’ that’s what witchers do. Go help.” Eskel came forward and captured Geralt’s mouth fully. “We’ll have time to celebrate when people aren’t disappearing. She’ll haul your ass away in a portal, and I’ll ride up there like a normal man and rent us a room. You come find me tomorrow night at the Rum Barrel at midnight?” Eskel raised his eyebrow conspiratorially. The way it pulled on his scarred visage made Geralt smile to himself.

“Alright. Deal. Wish me luck and patience.”

“You’re gonna need more patience than luck, Geralt.” Eskel kissed him again before pushing him toward the door.

 

“Good there you are Geralt!” Yennefer exclaimed as he approached. “Time is of the essence I am afraid so I will take us there by portal.”

A small yellow edged hole in reality grew bigger until it was large enough for them to step through and Yennefer held out her hand to Geralt.

“I hate portals.”

 

They walked out in front of a large manse in what looked to be a newly renovated area of Vengerberg. It was mostly dark out with few lights lit in the streets. No one was walking the streets this time of night it seemed, or they had stopped because of the disappearances. Yennefer led him to the entrance and opened it. Geralt followed her in. She showed him to a guest room directly across from what he assumed was hers.

“You’ll want some rest. Sober up.” She smiled not unaffectionately.

“We can start in the morning then. Night Yen.” Geralt turned and entered the room. His stomach still turning in knots from the portal he washed his face and settled in to meditate trying to shake it off.

 

The next morning dawned gray and bleary. Geralt passed Yen’s door and searched out the kitchen. He found what he deemed an acceptable breakfast and was greedily wolfing it down when Yen entered looking perfectly coiffed and refreshed. Glamour he knew played a large part in that.

“So what’s the story on these disappearances? You said it was three people.” Geralt wanted details, wanted to know what the rush was, what they were dealing with.

“Three separate times but six people in total. Their belongings untouched, no sign of a struggle, no ransom, no word of them since. That is why I need you Geralt.” Yennefer sighed. “I have nothing. There is a rather ostentatious affair being put on by the local nobility tonight. I was hoping we could attend, mingle maybe we would gather some leads, overhear something…” she trailed off.

“You just want to see me stuffed in a doublet again.” Geralt laughed at her.

“Perhaps, the sight would not displease me. I do believe it would assist us to be seen so publicly together though.”

Geralt’s stomach soured at that statement, “What are you getting at Yen?”

“Merely that there may be some benefit if people thought we were a couple at this affair is all. For our investigation.”

“Yen. You understand that since we broke the spell I don’t-”

“Of course I do Geralt!” There was a slight underlying anger in Yennefer’s tone, “You’ll just have to trust me, as the woman you once knew, that it is important that we keep up the illusion for right now.”

Geralt swallowed. He didn’t like this at all, he hated that he felt like Yen was withholding information. That was how it had always been with her. “Fine. I’d like to look at the places where these people disappeared from.”

“Alright.” Yennefer’s arms were crossed in defiance, “They’re common places mostly the river dock, an orchard, and a lane just outside of town.”

“So they all went missing outside?” Geralt was making a mental tally of monsters with appetites that veracious.

“It would appear so.”

 

There really was nothing remarkable about the sites. They were either somewhat isolated as the lane and orchard were. Or deserted at the time of the disappearance in the case of the city docks. There were no witnesses. Yen said that they had been young to middle aged, no elderly victims yet, but all had been adults. No bodies had been recovered. Whatever it was it was leaving nothing behind.

Once he had gone over the sites Yen insisted that they visit the local tailor to find him something suitable to wear to this ball. He dreaded it. Dreaded the doublet, the hose, the dancing, the ball, the pretending all of it. He couldn’t wait for it to be over and to go find Eskel at the Rum Barrel.

 

At six bells Yennefer and Geralt strolled into the garden of the local noble looking like ten thousand crowns, despite having spent considerably less. Yennefer introduced Geralt of Rivia as her famed witcher beau and it took everything Geralt had to keep his face passive and go along with it. He refused to dance though. They found a bench near the refreshments and watched the upper class mingle, the middle class yearn, and the lower class scuffle around to clean up after the others. It was horrid by Geralt’s estimation, but then all socials were. He focused on eating all their free food and drinking enough to make the night passable. He tuned his hearing to try and catch anything useful but he doubted highly that who the local banker was sleeping with mattered much.

The evening passed uneventfully and at ten bells Geralt brought Yen around to the idea that much more was unlikely to surface. They walked the relatively short distance back to the manse, Yen’s arm looped through his. When they entered and went up the stairs Geralt turned to go into the guest room and Yen pulled on his arm.

“Trust me Geralt. It is important that we keep up the illusion, stay in my room.” Geralt didn’t trust her though. Not like he trusted Eskel, and he had promised Eskel he would meet him tonight.

“I need to change out of this shite and into my armor.”

Yennefer sighed, “Fine, but then join me. I am not asking you to share my bed Geralt, only to stay in my room, meditate if you must. It is important even if I cannot tell you why.”

“You could never tell me why Yen. That was the problem.”

“Geralt.” Yen sounded genuinely hurt.

“Yen don’t push. I’ll come over in a minute for a little while.”

 

Geralt stripped out if the doublet and hose as fast as he could. He felt whole again once he was back into his armor, swords on his back, potions on his belt. He thought of Eskel. He could stay in Yen’s room, meditate for a bell and a half and then then sneak out to the Rum Barrel. Yen would be angry when she woke up and he wasn’t there but he didn’t care. She could never tell him her reasons, he did not owe her his.

When he entered her room he immediately noticed the stuffed unicorn in the corner. He couldn’t believe she still had that. _Sentimental much, Yen?_ He thought. She was sitting at her vanity in a night gown, brushing the curls out of her hair. She set the brush down and turned to look at him. She stared intently at him as she walked to the bed and got in.

“You don’t have to meditate unless you want to. You’d be welcome-”

“Don’t. Push. Yen.” Geralt got out between gritted teeth. He turned his back on her and settled in front of her large fireplace. Making mental note of the time he decided he would meditate for one bell. If she wasn’t asleep by then she could watch him walk out, damn her plan that required them to appear as a couple. If she couldn’t share why it was necessary than he wasn’t obliged to go along with it. He flicked his fingers plunging the room into darkness except the light the fireplace bathed it in. He couldn’t see the pinched look on Yen’s face as she fought back her sadness.

 

Exactly one bell later his eyes lifted open and the room was still bathed in the firelight. He could hear Yen’s soft breathing indicating she had indeed fallen asleep. He stood up and walked over to the balcony, quietly opening the doors letting in the moonlight. The clouds had parted and the moon was shining brightly now. He stepped out and looked over the railing. He could easily let himself down. He slipped over it and down into the side garden before coming out onto the street. He padded quickly but efficiently through the empty streets towards the inn, anticipation prickling in his belly at finally getting to spend the night with Eskel since there interruption in Aldersberg. He was struck again by how empty the streets were, no one seemed to venture out at night in Vengerberg these days. It was nearly midnight and he didn’t want to be late so he picked up his pace to a near jog. Rounding the last corner his foot slid on something lying on the cobblestones and he almost went down.

“Oh shite.” Geralt swore softly under his breath catching his balance, not often he stumbled being a witcher. He turned around bending down to see what he had slipped on and picked up a wooden spoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....cliffhanger.
> 
> Comments and kudos feed the writer brain. tell me what you like if anything! :)


	12. O'Dimm Oh Damn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt never showed up to meet Eskel so Eskel goes looking for him. Yennefer learns some uncomfortable life truths and Eskel has to come to the rescue for real this time instead of just waiting for Dandelion to talk Geralt out of trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eskel to the rescue
> 
> Warning for dramatic Yen
> 
> no beta

It was half past midnight when Eskel felt like something was wrong. Geralt hadn’t shown up at the Rum Barrel yet and Eskel had grown restless waiting. He’d redressed and gone downstairs into the taproom to have a drink. Sometimes things cropped up, he told himself, who knew what had happened in the last day, still Geralt hadn’t left a message for him here at the bar. They tried their best not to be late, knowing it would worry each other.

In a bid to calm himself and find out more about what Yennefer had dragged his lover into Eskel struck up a conversation at the bar. He had to admit he was curious about the disappearances since had not been happening when he was here last. Or hadn’t been put together yet at least. The barkeep was a genial fellow with plenty of stories to share. Apparently he said couples had been going missing in the last month. All appeared happy, in love, no sign of foul play, no mention of ransom, and no sign of them again. All had gone missing in the night, with no witnesses, while meeting up in secluded or deserted areas- docks, orchards, lovers lane.

And that was when the bells struck one and Eskel began to truly get a horrific feeling. Couples in love disappearing when meeting up. Like Geralt coming to meet him at midnight, except it was well past and he still wasn’t here. He tried not to look to panicked as he asked the man if he knew where the famed sorceress Yennefer was living. Once he got directions he excused himself politely and rushed out the door. Turning left immediately outside he made it to the end of the block before he caught wind of Geralt’s scent. He smelled liked leather, Roach, and tonight a little wine. He stopped at the beginning of the trail to look around. It was like the trail started out of thin air though. Nothing was there except, oddly, a wooden serving spoon laying in in the road. He reached down and picked it up, examining it. It didn’t seem out of the ordinary other than that there was no reason for it to be here in the road where Geralt’s trail seemingly began or ended. He carried it with him as he followed Geralt’s smell along the roads of Vengerberg, to a manse that he was sure was the one Yennefer was occupying based on the barkeeps description. The trail led to a small side garden with a balcony and seemed to end there. Eskel pushed some crates under the balcony and hauled himself up.

Eskel could see into the room through the open doors. Yennefer was awake and pacing the floor, cursing at herself under her breath, hands in her hair.

“Shite, shite, shite. Where is he? Oh Geralt.” She was shaking her head as she paced. “This is not how this was supposed to go, it was supposed to take us both.”

“What is ‘it’?” Eskel walked silently into the room.

“Eskel??!” Yennefer looked like she might fall over from shock. “What are you doing here?” She took a few deep breaths to calm herself. “I’d ask how you got in but the open balcony doors are a dead give away.”

“Yennefer.” There was just a hint of growl in Eskel’s voice, he was not in the mood to play games with her, he wanted answers. “Where is Geralt? And what was supposed to take you both? The thing thats been making couples disappear?”

“I… I don't know Eskel.” Yennefer sat on the edge of her bed twisting her hands in her nightgown. “I woke up a while ago and he was gone. There was no noise, the balcony doors were open.”

Eskel rubbed one hand against his face. “He was stayin’ in here with you?” He sounded a little incredulous and Yennefer found that insulting.

“Why would he not?”

“Because he doesn’t love you.” Eskel sighed, he was too fucking tired for this conversation. He could see the hurt in her eyes. “I mean he doesn’t dislike you, he just isn’t interested in that way. Anymore.”

Yennefer huffed, tears pooling in her eyes. “So he told me. He was going to meditate. It was all for appearances. To draw its attention. It only takes those who are truly in love. I sought to fool it.” She wiped her eyes. “I guess thats why it only took him.”

Eskel was gripping the spoon with both hands now, angry. He knew deep down that she had not been this candid with Geralt, was only being this candid now because she had lost. She had let Geralt walk into this mostly blind.

“And now he is gone forever like the others, because I was too foolish to see, he doesn’t love me, not at all. He doesn’t love anyone.”

“That’s not true.” The spoon snapped in half in Eskel’s grip. He hadn’t realized how hard he’d been squeezing it, bending it in his frustration at Yennefer and her selfishness.

The world skittered to a halt around them. The flames in the fireplace froze, imperial yellow fingers stilled reaching up towards the mantle. Curtains on the balcony door halted, blown adrift by the breeze and stuck there as if they had too much starch in them. A man walked down seemingly from the moon in the sky outside the balcony and in through the door.

“And there my dear Yennefer is the truth of it.” Said the man. He was clad in blue pants and a brown shirt with three matching blue stripes on the upper arms. A small pouch hung from a leather tong on his neck and his head was shaved nearly bald.

As Eskel stared at the man, realization dawned on him. Memories of a contract that had shaken Geralt to the core the previous summer before their meeting in Dorian, the last time he’d been late. Of a being who’s powers and origin even Geralt was unsure of, with a fondness for deals, souls, tricks, and… spoons.

“See this gentleman begins to put he pieces together.” The man pointed towards Eskel.

“Who are you?” Yennefer was finding her words again, “And what are you doing here?!”

“I have been called so many things. A merchant, Master Mirror, Gaunter O’Dimm. You may simply call me Gaunter if you would like. As to why I am here. Well I believe I was summoned by the famed Geralt of Rivia’s lover was I not?” He merely looked at Eskel with an open earnest face, both eyebrows slightly raised. “You did break my spoon.”

“I think you’re mistaken.” Yennefer’s laugh was almost hysterical, bordering on losing control. “The only one in here who has EVER been Geralt’s lover is me.”

“Yen. Shut up.” She looked like she had been physically slapped by Eskel’s words.

“I.. I think I am going to be ill.” Yennefer laid down on the bed then tears leaking from her closed eyes as she focused on only her breathing.

“You said, my dear lady, that Geralt loves no one. That you see is not true. Perhaps he does not love you anymore, but he does love this man. I’d wager in fact that this man loves him back. And if I am correct then perhaps this gentleman would like to play a game? A chance to win his prize back?”

“Anything.” Eskel meant it. He’d trade places if he had to.

“Well then we have a deal. You win and you both go free with my promise that I will never interfere with either of your lives for good or ill again. I win and I get to keep you both, there is much I could,” Gaunter tilted his head slightly, “learn from you.”

The world spun away from him, pieces breaking off like so much decaying matter. Eskel felt nauseous, the smell of sulfur overwhelming his nose. He squeezed his eyes shut against the sting of it it was so strong. When he opened then again he was in a whole new place.

Yennefer laid on the bed still trying to modulate her breathing, failing to hold back her tears, hysterical laughter bubbling out of her throat again. If only she had been honest with him, this time, and the others. She wondered, could maybe it have turned out different? Was she even capable of such honestly, such openness, with others? Maybe someday she would have the chance to find out.

 

“You humans perplex me.” O’Dimm said casting a neutral look at Eskel. “You say you would do anything for Geralt of Rivia, do you really even understand what that means?”

“Yes. I would take his place.” Eskel sneered. “Sit in your eternal hell, let you torture me, if you planned. But you just want to play with me, with us.”

O’Dimm hummed to himself, “Smarter than you look.”

“Where did you take us?” Eskel looked around himself. The world here was twisted, trees were deformed and black, branches curling in on themselves. The ground was gray and covered in a fine dust. The sky was deep red where it wasn’t covered by thick streaks of equally gray clouds and it was oppressively hot.

“This is part of my realm.” O’Dimm sounded a touch proud, “Geralt is here. I wonder if you can save him?” He looked at Eskel expectantly. “Humans have all these ideas about love… how it is undying, how it is beautiful and pleasurable. Strange don’t you think? I mean love at first sight, really?”

“Get to the point of the game.”

“Now, now, no need to be in a rush.” O’Dimm was clearly trying to make a point here. “Yet Geralt’s love for Yennefer died, slowly withering away until none remained, and you…” O’Dimm eyed Eskel thoughtfully, “I would describe Geralt’s love for you as… messy. I’ve watched him you know, and the things he lets you do with a rope, it disturbs me that he would find such things enjoyable.”

“What the fuck?!” Eskel was angry now, the bile rising in his throat hot and acrid. In a flash he drew his silver sword and slashed out at O’Dimm drawing it across his body. The tissue parted in half like butter melting away and Eskel heard a haunting laugh behind him. He whirled around to see O’Dimm walking anew toward him.

“Really Eskel? Did you think it would be so easy?” O’Dimm’s eyes burned with fire behind them.

Eskel was panting with anger and a tinge of fear. What madness had Yennefer gotten Geralt into?

“Where is Geralt you sick son’ofa bitch? What game are you playing with us?”

“Eskel, Eskel. It’s simple really. If you really live someone you’ll set them free. Follow the path to find him and once you do: release him then you are both free to go.”

“That’s not a game. What’s the trick?”

“I merely wish to see what true love is really capable of. If you really have it, that is. The last three couples sadly, proved not so infallible. Given the chance to free their loves, they failed. I do hope you fair better.” His smile flashing a hint too much of his teeth to feel normal O’Dimm turned and walked away fading into the twisted trees off the dirt path.

Letting out a ferocious growl of anger Eskel drew his steel sword and took two leading steps swinging it at the nearest tree. It landed with a solid thunk embedding deep in the trunk.

“Bastard!” He swore, chest heaving.

After a minute of standing there staring at his sword in the trunk, hands shaking at his sides, Eskel rand his hands through his hair. He put all his effort into calming his body. Slowing his breathing, letting his heart rate settle in his chest. Finding that inner peace that let him dance through a dangerous fight. He grabbed the hilt of his sword and wrenched it from the tree. He raised up onto the tips of his toes and fell back onto his feet as he slid his sword back home into his scabbard. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins but his hands were steady.

“Lets do this,” he said to himself as he turned on his feet and took off jogging down the only path before him. Little puffs of gray dust kicked up by each step of his leather boots.

 

At the first place the path seemed to widen up Eskel noticed a black fog. It wasn’t completely opaque, and was clearly unnatural, but then so was everything Gaunter’s world. He slowed his jog to a careful walk as he approached hand on his silver sword, slowly turning his body to lead his front foot in. His ears picked up an eerie tune before anything else, followed shortly after by quiet growls. Green glow shifted within the black fog and Eskel’s sword slid from its home balanced and ready to strike as he slowly tip-toed through the fog. The first barghest ran at Eskel launching itself at him as it approached. It caught the tip of his blade, sinking farther onto it with its momentum as it leapt. Swinging to the side he cast it off his sword and quickly took several steps forward to greet the next barghest with a heavy overhand slash that came down right on its spine. Whirling all the way around to gain momentum he cut the last one charging at him clean in half. Five more fast steps brought him to the other side of the dense dark fog. The strange jingle of the music had dissipated completely.

Not much farther down the path Eskel found himself faced with a fork in the road. Not wanting to wast time he simply chose a side and explored it. To the left there was 200 paces of dense forest path. All the trees were lifeless and barren, with twisted back branches. They were packed so closely together were was no way to leave the path and at the end was a very small clear area with what looked to be a well. Eskel retraced his steps to the fork. Since the other way was a dead end he went right this time but after less than 150 paces of similar surroundings he came to another tiny clearing with yet another well. Two dead ends.

Eskel pondered for several long minutes. How to follow a path that ends? The thick dead woods prevented going off the path. Neither side led beyond the wells. There were no turn offs before this fork.

Eskel peered over the stone wall of the well. Pitch black. No where else to go. And yet. It was the only available path there was. Eskel sat on the low wall, swinging his legs over. He sat on the edge for only a moment, silently hoping to himself that he didn’t break his legs at the bottom, then he pushed himself off the edge. He fell blindly in the dark for a few moments and then landed with a splash in a deep pool at the bottom. When he surfaced his eyes had started to adjust to the darkness but it was barely enough. He swam towards what appeared to be the only open way, the pool was surrounded by steep walls on three sides with only the area to the left open. Pulling himself up on a ledge to the left he found the water there only ankle deep. He fumbled with his potion satchel until he felt the catch open. He pulled out a vial of cat and swallowed it down. Blinking to clear his vision as everything became relative values of white and gray he returned the empty vial to his bag closing it. He shook his head violently like a dog, sending water droplets cascading everywhere, in an effort to rid himself of the overwhelming feeling of wetness that had overcome him.

Walking forward into the cavern he could see a pinprick of light that became a cone shining down ahead of him. _Must be where the other well drops down_ , he thought to himself. So no matter which well he had jumped down, he still would have ended up here. Further forward still and on his right was a narrow passage in the wall. He squeezed through it and found a cave on the other side leading away from the cavern he was just in. He began following it slowly. It was hot in the cave, even more so than it had been on the surface. Coming around a corner he saw a rock outcropping on the ground, glowing angry red. Its surface was charred black with slip lines of molten red showing through and it reeked of sulfur. He passed several more like it before the cave floor gave an ominous rumble.

Without much more warning than that a pale widow burst from the cave floor, knocking Eskel off his feet. He rolled away and popped back up sword already in hand. Drawing his quen tight around himself he ran at the widow and swung in a wide arc, then dodged directly to the side as it sent acid his way. He tried to bring his sword around on its back but it bounced right off the pale widow’s hard armored shell. The widow withdrew underground and Eskel took his best guess as to where it would emerge throwing down a yrden to stun it when it rose again. He was lucky he knew, when it came up right in the middle of his trap. It hissed angry and froze in the air, arms rattling. He ran in quickly and lunged at it with his sword running it through, pulling it out, drawing it around himself as he turned his whole body around for momentum on his back hand. Once more over his head and down left the pale widow cut in half curled on the floor of the cave.

Wiping his brow, he moved on. He needed to get out of this cave before he overheated. Even as a witcher there was only so much he could take and fighting in his armor in the heat had only added to how extreme this oppressive heat felt. Several more twists and turns brought him to a place where he could see a shaft of light. He had to climb a wall of boulders to reach a cleft in the roof of the cave but he was able to exit.

Feet planted firmly on the dusty gray path again he headed forward. He didn’t make it far before being accosted by three fleders. They pounced at him from the tree lined side of the path. Igni combined with multiple quick slashing attacks took out the first two. The last was cut in half by a heavy side attack.

Following the path as it began to wind up a hill led Eskel out of the trees an onto a plateau where he finally saw Geralt. Running towards him he was caught off guard by the black mist that swirled up around him forming into a being with the basic shape of a man- four limbs, a trunk, and a head. But it had no eyes, possessed no face, where its mouth should be only an ominous sucking hole lined with jagged black barbs. Its hands had no real fingers, instead thin blades of black formed into deadly black claws.

Eskel leaned his shoulder to the side to turn out of the way. Drawing his sword he came behind it quickly and sliced at what was essentially an arm. It fell to the ground, gathered into the mist and a new arm grew where it once was. He moved around it and thrust into it but an empty hole formed where his sword should have struck and it went in and came out without ever meeting the black. The hole closed up again as soon as his sword was withdrawn. He cast aard and while it succeeded it blowing the monster into a mist, it merely reformed itself moments later. Frustrated he threw down a yrden to borrow himself some time hopefully. Clearly physical attacks were getting him nowhere.

“Son’ofa bitch!” Eskel was running out of endurance, but the yrden did seem to have held the thing, this shadow monster, in place at least. Thinking of it as a shadow gave him the idea of shining some light on it. _What gives off light better than a good dose of fire_ , Eskel thought. Casting a strong igni right at it he watched as the monster writhed at first, then emitted a hissing sound from its strange maw. He kept the igni going, letting a stream of fire take up the rest of his endurance. The monster dissolved into particles of black dust. Each mote turning red with fire before blowing away like so much ash. Eskel fell to his knees exhausted for the moment.

After he’d regained his energy for a second he turned on his knees and faced Geralt, sliding his sword back home in its scabbard again.

“Geralt.” He called out. Voice dry from exertion and the heat.

Geralt was on his knees, arms strung out to his sides, thick slimy black vines wrapped around his wrists and up his forearms holding his upper body up. His head hung forward on his shoulders, loose, too loose to be awake. His hair obscured his face. Each vine was growing from a tree made of black slime similar to itself. He was clad only in his leather pants and boots. When Eskel called his name he didn’t even move.

“Wolf!” Eskel tried again. Still no sign that he’d even been heard. “Damn’it!”

Eskel drug himself up from his knees and trudged forward. Hesitantly he put a hand under Geralt’s jaw, “Geralt,” he whispered, tilting Geralt’s head upward so his hair fell back and Eskel could see his face. His eyes were closed. “Gonna get you out of here. Love you.” Eskel slid his arms around Geralt embracing him and whispering in his ear. He felt movement.

“Geralt!” Eskel pulled back to look at him again. His eyes had opened but something was horribly wrong. Where those cat eyes should have been it was nothing but glistening black. Eskel fell on his butt and scooted back.

“Eskel.” Geralt’s voice sounded wrong too, off a key, haunting. “Do you really love me? Will you set me free?”

“You… you’re… NOT Geralt!” Eskel managed to get out getting to his feet.

“But I am. I know you, everything about you. I’ll prove it.” The thing with Geralt’s body but not his eyes and voice said. “I know you hum when your happy, you prefer dark beer, your kisses are always slow, and you’re always in control.” The smirk on its face was genuine Geralt. “Set. Me. Free.”

Eskel was struggling internally. It was true all the things this man said sounded like the way Geralt would describe him. He knew something was off though, if he cut through those vines he had a sinking feeling he’d never really see the real Geralt again.

“You say you love me, but its always like this me tied up and you in control. You would never dare to let me touch you the way you touch me.” Geralt said with an angry laugh.

“Okay, now I _know_.”

“Yes. Set me free.” Geralt said.

 _Now I **know** , I know you’re not really Geralt anymore_, thought Eskel to himself, _because I **have** let you touch me_. He did need to set him free though, that made sense. O’Dimm had been playing a riddle, he’d talked about love being undying, yet the love between Geralt and Yennefer being dead. Love being beautiful, but he thought Eskel and Geralt’s love was messy. Lastly he had said love was meant to be pleasurable according to humans, what was more painful that forcing you to set your lover free with death? If this thing was what had become of Geralt then better he die mercifully and swiftly by Eskel’s hand than rot here and suffer for eternity. It wasn’t really Geralt anymore as far as he could see. Eskel blinked not noticing the tears rolling down his cheeks. He had to follow through before he broke.

“I’ll set you free Geralt.” He walked right up, pressing his body close. He put his hand over Geralt’s heart and signed igni.”I love you.” Almost inaudible, as he gripped Geralt tightly.

Geralt screamed.

It was an inhuman and violent sound. Eskel closed his eyes on the tears flowing down his face and tried to block the sound out. As his sign continued he pressed his hand directly into the skin of Geralt’s chest. Geralt’s head rocked back with his scream, his open mouth spewing out black mist.

Suddenly the vines holding him went slack and shriveled, pulling back. His mouth slammed shut and he fell backwards to the ground taking Eskel with him. Startled by the sudden lack of resistance from Geralt’s body to hold him up Eskel fell onto him his sign disrupted. He opened his eyes to see Geralt under him, cat eyes fluttering shut, groaning.

Eskel rolled to the side. “GERALT! OPEN YOUR EYES!” He shook Geralt roughly. Another groan and his eyes fluttered open for a moment before closing again. Cat eyes, golden and bright.

“Eskel?” The sound was weak and quiet but right. It was Geralt’s real voice.

Eskel wrapped his warm over Geralt’s midsection, careful to miss the angry bleeding hand print he’d left over Geralt’s heart. Pulling him close Eskel sobbed against him. He couldn’t stop, didn’t want to.

“I… I thought… I’d lost you.” Eskel squeezed out in between heavy tears.

Geralt couldn’t say anything, too tired, and too in pain. Instead he raised his hand and gripped Eskel’s forearm in comfort.

“Well, well. Congratulations.” O’Dimm wandered up the hill path. “It appears you have solved the riddle, and been willing to sacrifice what none of the others would. Since you were willing to set him free, you have instead earned his freedom and yours. I will not meddle in either of your lives for good or ill ever again. Pray you never need a wish granted. For it will fall on deaf ears.”

“Fuck…OFF.” Eskel said through laughing tears. It wasn’t funny but it was so horrible he couldn’t _not_ laugh. He sat up wiping his tears away and cradling Geralt.

“Disappointing outcome for me really. I had hoped to learn more.” O’Dimm actually did look unhappy. “But a deals a deal.” He snapped his fingers and the world spun around Eskel again. He gripped tightly onto Geralt as the gray and black frayed away, the red sky melting. The smell of sulfur became overwhelming and he closed his eyes against it all.

And then he smelled lilac and gooseberries.

 

“ESKEL!” Yennefer screamed. “GERALT!? Oh my gods! What happened to him Eskel?!”

Eskel was still trying to get his bearings. “Yen, take it down a notch.” He gritted his teeth. “He’ll be okay. Jus’ need to get him to a bed, get him some potions.” He scooped Geralt’s limp form into his arms.

“Gues- guest bedroom is just across the hall here.” Yennefer led the way. Eskel set Geralt down on the bed and dug through his own potion bag for a white raffard’s. Geralt’s potion bag was gone wherever his swords and chest armor were in that gods forsaken otherworld. They would have to be replaced. Once he found it he uncorked it and placed it at Geralt’s lips. He bent to whisper encouraging words in Geralt’s ear as he tipped it up.

Geralt weakly drank it down. Coughing and sputtering he rolled onto his side. “Oh gods! That hurts. What the hells did you do to me Eskel?”

“I set you free.” Eskel smiled weakly. “May have involved a little igni, sorry.”

“You wha- O’Dimm right? Is he gone?”

“Yea, he’s gone from our lives for good. And yea he made trying to kill you the only way to save you.”

“I love you. For not leaving me there.” Geralt’s words were getting stronger and stronger, “I’d never have wanted to exist like that.”

“I know. That’s why I did what I did. Even if it killed me to do it.”

“Geralt, why don’t I get some water and perhaps Eskel can help you clean the blood off of your chest now that you are not quite so on the edge of death?” Yennefer broke in.

“That would be nice, thanks Yen.” Geralt replied.

Yennefer hurried out to locate a cloth and a bucket for some water.

“How’s she taking it?” Geralt asked, “Didn’t even have a chance to warn her about us.”

“Mmm better now, terrible before.”

“She’s going to want a long time away from both of us.” Geralt stated knowingly.

“Fine by me.” Eskel said exasperated. “You wouldn’t have gotten into this mess if she had given you the whole story upfront.” There was the edge of a growl in his voice.

“Alright. Calm down.” Geralt tried to settle back into the pillows better as he heard Yennefer coming back up the hall outside.

“It’s gonna be a long time b’fore I calm down.”

When Yennefer entered Eskel took the supplies she had brought from her and proceeded to gently wipe down Geralt’s chest. The white raffard’s decoction had healed the most severe of Geralt’s internal injuries, and reduced the weeping burn on his chest to an angry red welt in the shape of Eskel’s hand. Of course it had also left his veins bulging blue green under the skin of his face, making him look even more sickly pale than normal, but that was a sight Eskel was used to even in himself.

“You… are welcome to stay with him here Eskel. For the night.” Yennefer looked like she was drinking some poison herself. “He’ll need rest. He shouldn’t be on the move yet.”

“Thank you Yen.” Eskel was moved by her kindness, knowing what it was taking from her.

Yennefer moved to leave the room, closing the door behind her. Eskel stripped down to his leathers, toeing off his boots and leaning his swords against headboard right by where he would sleep. He pulled Geralt’s own boots off and then slipped under the covers working them over both Geralt and himself. He snuggled as close as he could, ever mindful of the still red raised blistered welt he’d given his lover. When he buried his nose in Geralt’s hair he caught a hint of sulfur and shuddered before bending his head to rest his nose on Geralt’s shoulder instead.

“I love you. Tomorrow, bath. Then I am taking you home.” Eskel stated plainly.

“Yeah? Where is home exactly?”

“Corvo Bianco.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Comments are like cookies, they feed hungry writers.
> 
> Epilogue incoming with fluffy happy ending smut. Then this story is done, for real. 13 chapters is the magic number.


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eskel and Geralt get their happily ever after.
> 
> I pegged this story at 8-9 chapters and 35k words. Oops. I overdid it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Starspren who was in a dilemma that it was ending soon and so deserved just a little more smut at Corvo Bianco.  
> Huge thanks to the many people who read (and even enjoyed!) the whole story. I am sure I will continue to post in this fandom thanks to all of you :)
> 
> Now on with the bathtub sex.

**_~TWO MONTHS LATER~_ **

 

The water rocked gently in the tub, lapping up the hardwood sides. A small glass bottle with cork in the top, half-full of oil, bobbed in the water on its side like a ship lost at sea. Geralt was on his knees, his chin rested on his folded arms, which in turn rested on the rim of the wooden tub in their room in Corvo Bianco. His back was covered in soap suds as Eskel knelt behind him thoroughly swirling a cloth over the backs of his thighs, creeping ever slowly towards the toned muscles of his ass. Eskel hummed appreciatively as he brought the cloth over those muscles, following it with his other hand. He spread Geralt apart, squeezing the rag above him, letting the soapy water cascade down and run between his cheeks.

Geralt let out a heavy breath.

Eskel followed the trail the water had taken with the thumb of one hand, while the other used the wash cloth to wrap gently around Geralt’s balls, softly sudsing them up, rolling them in his hand through the cloth. His thumb ran up and down Geralt’s cleft teasing the soapy water trail.

“Gods Eskel.” Geralt breathed in sharply. “Just fuck me already.”

Eskel laughed quietly, deep in his throat, “No, wanna be clean first.”

Eskel’s hand traveled from Geralt’s balls around to grip his cock lightly through the soapy cloth, teasing it up and down. His thumb prodded lightly at Geralt’s furl, pressing in at the edge and pulling away from the tight center, begging it open. Then rubbing over it to soothe, before repeating the tug. Geralt was almost whining with want when Eskel took the rag away from his cock. Moments later his thumb left Geralt needing too.

Eskel picked up the stoneware pitcher that had settled to the bottom of the tub. Full of hot water he brought it over Geralt’s back and poured it over him washing away the suds. He did it again over his ass and legs, then again a third time for good measure. He had started to rub his own cock with the soapy cloth by the time he was done.

“Spread your legs wider.” He ordered, and Geralt complied. Scooting his knees apart more on the floor of the tub Geralt sunk his back low stretching out to offer himself up.

“Fuck, that’s sexy.” Eskel’s voice was low and wanton as he placed a hand back on Geralt’s cheek to spread it open again. The forgotten pitcher glugged back down to the bottom of the tub and settled there. He leaned forward and bent down licking over Geralt’s tight pucker, savoring the rough intake of air Geralt made at the contact. He tasted bitter from the soap residue, but Eskel licked at his tender skin until the bitterness was gone and all that remained was the taste of Geralt.

“Ugnh, Gods Es-”

Eskel was still cradling himself in the cloth, the suds easing his way as he stroked himself up and down, over his head. Rubbing the slight roughness of the cloth into the tender slit every once in a while. Fuck he was too close. He slid down gripping the base of his cock hard, breathing against Geralt’s hole. He could feel it flutter against his lips, hear Geralt’s breathing picking up. He moved and placed a soft kiss on Geralt’s ass cheek that turned into a not quite soft bite.

“Huhn…” Geralt groaned. He wanted to touch himself, but if he did, he’d lose himself and Eskel wasn’t even inside him yet. And he wanted that more. Wanted to cum hard on Eskel’s cock. Feel himself spasm on that thickness, clenching down on its firmness thrust deep inside of him, Eskel’s hardness unable to yield inside his body’s grip. “Please Eskel, want…”

“I know,” Eskel let the cloth fall, settling into the water resting on his heels as he reached for the oil uncorking it. He was still mouthing over Geralt’s ass cheek as he coated three fingers and struggled to put the cork back in the bottle with his slick hand. It floated away aimlessly in the gentle waves that still rocked the bathwater. Eskel trailed all three fingers through Geralt’s cleft leaving slickness behind before he ran his middle finger back down pushing against his entrance and massaging against that tight heat.

Geralt was strung tight, his whole body alive with the need to have Eskel inside of him. He rocked back and felt Eskel’s finger slide home, felt himself constrict around it and shuddered. He eased himself forward, resting on his arms, reveling in the feeling of every ridge, knuckle, and callous as it slid out and tugged at him, before rocking back again. And again. And again.

Eskel could only rest his cheek against Geralt’s ass, willing himself to hold his hand still in the air as his body rocked back and forth with Geralt, watching in awe as Geralt fucked himself on his finger. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen, his finger sinking slowly in and out of Geralt’s most private place as he deliberately showed Eskel where he belonged.

“More,” Geralt’s voice was ragged when he asked for what he wanted.

Eskel’s breath stilled in his chest at the request but he pushed his ring finger in next to his middle finger the next time Geralt rocked back against his hand. The sight of both disappearing into Geralt’s ass punched the breath he was holding right out of his chest.

“Gods, Geralt, you’re fuckin’ amazin’ like this.” Eskel let his forefinger join the others and Geralt hesitated only a moment when he rocked back and felt the third finger at his entrance so soon. Then he pushed right onto with a grunt.

“Shi- Eskel.” Geralt gasped at the extra intrusion, “Only for you.” The stretch was intense, but he welcomed it. Those words must have broke something for Eskel though. He found himself bodily hauled up by Eskel’s strong arm around his waist. Eskel was kneeling low behind him and Geralt’s lower back was flush with Eskel’s chest, and still his fingers where settled as deep as they could be in Geralt’s ass.

Eskel’s lips pressed between Geralt’s shoulder blades as he began to work his fingers in Geralt in earnest, letting his fingertips curve forward to caress that knot of nerves inside him.

“You’ve gonna come for me. Just like this. Only for me.” Eskel’s voice had gotten growly, possessive. He jerked Geralt back against himself with each sentence and thrust of his fingers, making sure to touch those nerves on the way out.

Geralt was losing his balance, his knees on either side of Eskel’s sliding on the tub floor. He grabbed onto Eskel’s forearm around his waist holding on in a vain effort not to lose control of the situation. He wasn’t ready to cum yet, he wanted this to last, but Eskel’s driving fingers where pushing him closer and closer to that cliff with every passing second. He couldn’t think straight.

“Es- please!” Those fingers pressed into his nerves again and he could see sparkles in his vision. His thighs had that icy hot feeling, and his balls were drawing up tight. “I wanted you inside me.” Geralt managed to get out.

“You’ll have it, but first. I want you, to cum for me.” Eskel pressed against those nerves and circled his fingers firmly. “Like this.”

“OH FUCK!” Geralt bucked his hips wildly against Eskel’s firm hold as he shot his seed up into the air arcing down and landing in the water. Eskel let him rock his hips forward stuttering them with his release, his hand following to stay inside him.

“Fuck. You’re hot. And MINE.” Eskel said against his back.

Geralt could only laugh faintly. He felt wrung out. He slumped down into the warm water, sitting on Eskel’s thighs, as Eskel withdrew his fingers gently. Eskel kissed the side of his neck, sucking on the tendon there and humming against Geralt’s skin.

“I love you. Love that you’re only like this for me.” He wrapped both arms around Geralt’s waist, he could still feel small quakes in Geralt’s muscles from his strong orgasm. “Gonna take you to bed, gonna bury myself in you, and you’re gonna feel everything now, ‘cause your soft and loose.”

“Fuck,” Geralt replied haltingly, “not going to be able to walk tomorrow. But I want it.”

“We got potions for that.” Eskel laughed quietly and nibbled at Geralt’s earlobe.

Eskel helped Geralt up, helped him dry off, then backed him up to the bed while kissing him until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he was forced to sit. Eskel pushed on his chest and he laid down and remained there while Eskel retrieved the oil bottle, barely a quarter full still floating in the tub.

“In the middle of the bed, scoot up.” Eskel directed him to where he wanted him to be before kneeling on the bed and moving towards him while coating his still hard cock with the remainder of the oil.

Eskel took each of Geralt’s ankles in one of his hands and bent his legs wide over his body. He moved closer to Geralt, his own knees spread slightly for good balance and he crowded against Geralt’s ass. He tipped Geralt’s legs further over his own body until it forced his butt into the air, his soft cock and sensitive balls gathering up against his stomach. The way Eskel had spread his legs into a “V” was exposing his stretched and still tender hole for Eskel to see and Eskel’s face was rapt as he watched his cock nudge at it.

Eskel pressed his hips forward, watching intently as his wide head forced Geralt’s entrance to part for it. Listening as Geralt moaned with it when his body closed over it. He retreated just to the flared bit stretching Geralt to the brink before thrusting all the way in to the base.

“Gods Geralt. So good for me.”

He rocked his hips back and forth using Geralt’s ankles as a handhold for balance as he thrust. Keeping his pace steady at first, but quickening as he became more and more lost in his own arousal. The sounds bubbling out of Geralt’s throat spurring him on. The sight of Geralt’s limp cock leaking more and more copiously on his own belly the longer Eskel fucked into him driving Eskel to a peak.

He let Geralt’s legs drape over his shoulders, freeing his hands up to grab his hips and pull Geralt against himself with each thrust. Geralt locked his ankles behind Eskel’s neck using the leverage to help pull himself against Eskel. Against all odds he could feel another wave coming, the tension in his balls, the heat deep in his belly behind his cock even though it was still mostly soft. He gripped the headboard over his head behind him, not even conscious of the words tumbling out of his mouth.

“Please, make me cum, please.” Geralt begged.

Eskel’s hips slapped up against his roughly, repeatedly. “Shhh, I got you.” He soothed Geralt as best he could even though he could feel his own release barreling at him. He couldn’t stop it, didn’t want to stop it. He wanted to bury himself inside Geralt and fill him up. He stilled as deeply inside Geralt as he could and stiffened as his own orgasm overtook him, his face tight with pleasure.

Geralt could feel the wet heat spurting into him and the thought of Eskel finding his pleasure inside his own body sent him over the edge. His ass tightening around Eskel, his stomach clenching, his balls spasming. His cock weakly leaking more cum on his belly.

Eskel stayed inside of him for a while. Kissing the inside of his leg as he caught his breath. Stroking up and down his thighs with his blunt fingertips. Telling him how good he was. How much he loved him. When Eskel’s breathing had settled and his cock had softened enough that it slipped out of Geralt’s ass on its own, Eskel gently unhooked Geralt’s legs and rested them on the bed. He went to the tub and got a new cloth. He dipped his fingers in the water and reheated it with igni before wetting the washcloth. Returning to bed he took his time wiping the cum off of Geralt’s belly. Carefully cleaning Geralt’s cock and balls, before spending extra time to ensure Geralt’s sensitive hole was thoroughly cleaned of oil and his own spend. Geralt seemed to half sleep through the process, but it was important to Eskel to take care of him. He gave himself a cursory wipe before dropping the cloth back into the tub and searching through the chest next to the bed for a healing salve. Once he found it he returned again and with extra tenderness applied some to Geralt’s sorely stretched rim, and just inside. Setting it on the bedside stand he turned the covers down on one side of the bed and laid down rolling Geralt towards him and pulling the blanket over them.

“You take good care of me.” Geralt smiled into Eskel’s neck.

Eskel ran his fingers through Geralt’s hair scratching at his scalp. “Hmm.” He mused, “Thought you were sleeping.”

“No, just thinking.”

“’Bout?”

“Our next renovation.”

“Oh?! Thought we were done?” Eskel couldn’t help a smile tugging at his scars.

“But then where would Kiera and Lambert sleep next winter?”

Eskel laughed, and pulled Geralt tight against him. “Alright, but you’re telling Lambert about this not me.”

 

_**~End~** _


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